


The Secret

by SilverMuggle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 70,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMuggle/pseuds/SilverMuggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione Granger finds out a secret that will change everything she knows about her beloved Wizarding World. It is also one that brings her both great pain and...an odd sense of fulfillment. She finds, in the midst of a terrible war, she isn't the only one with secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter One**

SM <3

* * *

**July 4, 1997**

**5:47pm**

**Edison Park**

Hermione Granger sat under a tall maple tree in a park just around the corner from her home. The park was like any other in her muggle town; two pairs of swing sets, a sand box, a small jungle gym and large trees with branches that could cover a entire family picnic from the sun. The park had been around since Hermione could remember. Her earliest memories took place in that park. The good and the bad; from falling off her bike to making her first friend. Growing up, the park quickly became her go to spot to clear her thoughts. She remembered racing to the park at the tender age of elven, her Hogwarts letter clutched tightly in her hand. A sense of belonging and peace washing over her as she read each word one-hundred times over. There, in her favorite spot and under her favorite tree, a small smile grew on her face as she came upon the realization that she was a witch.

Today, seventeen year old Hermione sat in her favorite spot, under her favorite tree, clutching another letter. One that she knew would change her life forever. A small frown sat on her face. Fear and confusion gripped her mind.

_...There were families. Pureblood families who didn't want to go to the dark side, but Voldemort wanted them. These purebloods were powerful. Their magic was beyond any normal wizard..._

A gust of wind whipped around her, forcing her to zip up her sweater. The park was empty of all beings, which was odd considering it wasn't even past six o'clock—usually kids were there until eight, running away from their parents and chasing fireflies. Hermione stared equivocally at the sun, which begun to set its descent over the horizon, the chilly air picking up. Maybe a storm was coming.

The witch tenderly turned the letter around, and considered whether opening it would be the road to go. She didn't know where it would lead to.

_...Some families were smarter than others. Some purebloods decided to have a baby after the war and some didn't see the war coming so they had they're children already... Hermione, baby, the purebloods who kept their babies often them to muggles..._

Something in her mind kept telling her that she could always forget the letter, forget what her parents told her. The young witch could always head back into her warm, cozy home to finish eating her dinner, bid her parents goodnight, go into her room, read a nice book and forget everything she was told. But just as the thought began to sound agreeable, the logical part of her brain reminded her that she was _Hermione Granger_. She wasn't a coward. Hiding and cowering wasn't her. The curiosity alone would drive her mad.

_...It was the man that said everything. He told us to take you in and raise you as we would our own. He said that you weren't safe with them. The woman, a beauty, just sobbed. The only time she smiled was when she looked down at you and said the only three words I ever heard her say, 'I love you'. Then, she handed you to me. The man handed your father two envelops said 'thank you and please take good care of her.'…_

She was a Gryffindor with courage, brains and loyalty. She could do this. With that in mind, she opened the expensive envelope, revealing a perfectly folded, equally expensive ivory colored parchment. She weighed it on her hand still unopened. The sides were thick and of luxurious texture.

Hermione looked from left to right, ensuring there was no one around. She took a deep breath and opened the parchment delicately.

_Our dearest Isabelle,_

_First and far most, you must know that your father and I love you very much. We know that you don't remember us but understand that we had to protect our family and giving you to the Grangers was our only option. Isabelle, our family is very powerful. Voldemort wanted us in his ranks of death eaters because of our great power and we couldn't bring that type of life to you or our family._

_This war...it has no end. We had to protect you._

_A lot of thing will begin to unfold. Keep your heart, mind and eyes open, love. Don't forget your name; Isabelle Harmony Cantrell._

_Love,_

_Mya Harmony_

_Alexandros Bryant Cantrell_

Hermione read the letter over and over until she could mesmerize it. How…disappointing. She expected more, like three or five pages more. But it was hardly two paragraphs. Nine sentences, and one-hundred seventeen words of perfect script, mockingly staring at her.

'A lot of things will begin to unfold. Keep your heart, mind and eyes open.' It was obvious there was another secret involved. It made her uneasy. Her name was also important, Mrs. Cantrell practically underlined it.

M-maybe it meant—Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. None of it made any sense.

Hermione looked in the envelope and found a gold oval-shaped locket. On the front was her Cantrell initials 'IHC' engraved in white-gold and on the back it was the family crest; a bolded 'C' in the color of royal red, sitting at the center over a black sword and wand that crossed at midpoint. Aligned right under the 'C' from the end of the sword to the end of the wand, in royal red, read the words, _Fortitudo, Virtus, Fidelitas_. Bravery, Power and Loyalty. Words of the House of Cantrell.

She reached to touch it and once she did, a flash of red passed through it. She touched it again, that time it didn't do anything so she picked it up.

Interesting.

The locket had been made with magic.

_'I love you, Hermione' her mom whispered. 'We both love you so much.' Hermione returned the hug but she still felt there was something in the air that they weren't telling her._

She turned it over and slowly opened it. Inside was a picture of a baby girl, but before she could identity the girl, a bright light erupted from the lockets and a wail rang in her ears forcing her to closed it. When she opened it again the same thing happened, after the fifth time she gave up and let out a frustrated grunt. The witch picked up the letter and skimmed though it again.

_Don't forget your name; Isabelle Harmony Cantrell._

Hermione looked from the paper to the locket and back again.

"One clue that leads to the other." She whispered thoughtfully. Hermione opened the locket for a sixth time but this time she put it closer to her and said, "I am Isabelle Harmony Cantrell."

Her surroundings began to disappear and she quickly turned to look at her house hoping her parents see her before her world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Two**

SM <3

* * *

Hermione landed ungracefully on her back and hit the ground with a loud thud. She groaned, blindly searching for her wand and let out a sigh of relief when she found it was still in her pocket. The ground beneath her was no longer moist and alive with flowers and grass. Instead, she found a cold, and hard concrete floor. She slowly turned on her stomach and opened her eyes to see that she was at the top of naturally raised area of land. Below were small, spaced out village homes that looked lodged into thick greenery. The setting sun sat straight ahead and tall weeds covered the steep hill. She was sitting on badly structured composite pavement, in between the tall weeds and an even taller gray murky wall.

The witch looked at it in wonder. There were deep holes in it, as if someone had thrown large rocks or… spells. Something had tried to get past the tall, thick wall. She wondered what was behind it...

She got distracted by the feeling of something warm sliding down the back of her neck. Hermione prayed it wasn't blood—she didn't think she landed that hard, although her head was pounding. She lightly touched it and was relieved that it wasn't blood, but sweat? Why was she sweating?

She looked back up at the wall. Was it protected by wards? Feeling unnaturally warm, she took off her sweater and wrapped it around her waist. She glared up the wall and debated whether she should attempt to dismantle the ward but then remembered that it could've been mounted with dark magic. The best she could do was move away from it and she caught sight of a tree a good thirty feet away so moved to sit against the bark. The letter from the Cantrell's still gripped in her hand.

Cantrell.

The name didn't ring any bells. They were purebloods, that was clearly evident. She did some research on the Sacred Twenty-Eight earlier that year and was sure the Cantrell name wasn't on the list. Which was odd considering they had some of the characteristics of a Noble and Ancient House: a family crest, a family motto, even the name was of English descent. Hermione bit her lip. Then again, if Alexandros and Mya Cantrell were eventually found and killed by Voldemort, the Wizengamot would have given away their seats assuming the couple hadn't produced any heirs...

Her mum said Voldemort wanted them because they were powerful... but she read plenty of books about old and powerful wizarding families that Voldemort could've gone after— _did_ go after.

Additionally, none of those books had a single mention of a 'Cantrell'… Were they really a powerful wizarding family? Or merely cowards that chose to run away from confrontation? Why all the secrecy?

Hermione sighed. Her near perfect memory was drawing up blanks and it made her uneasy. Suddenly, the Cantrell family became a reminder that she didn't grow up in this world—that there was so much about the Wizarding World she _didn't_ know.

"Why did you bring me here?" She muttered in the eerie silence. Why would the Cantrell's lead her to the middle of nowhere? To a wall that was protected by wards and impossible to get through? And almost two decades had passed, who knew what was behind it now! Hermione let out a shuddered breath. She couldn't do this, not alone—there was a war going on! Sitting on a hill top, on a foreign plot of land with no backup was surely not the brightest thing to do when anything and anyone around could be working for Voldemort. With that in mind she stood up, with the intention of going back home to her parents. All she needed was the locket and-

Hermione jumped. Where was that cursed locket?

She stood up from behind the tree and walked over to the middle of the road. She found the gold jewelry where she had landed and the feeling of unnatural warmth came over her again. Ignoring it, she looked down at the locket to find that it glowed against the dark ground and practically vibrated with unused magic. Had she activated the magic when she opened it and yelled the Cantrell name? She leaned down to pick it up, then heard a soft _crack_ followed by a groan

Hermione quickly ran to hide behind a tree, her wand tightly held to her side and the other holding the locket. She tried to disapparate but found that she couldn't— _fucking security wards._ How did _they_ get here then?! Hermione closed her eyes tightly, her heart beating hard against her chest. Who would know about this place? Was it all a trick? A grand scheme formulated by Death Eaters? Hermione heard the person get up and low footsteps walking away from her and towards the wall that she refused to approach.

She heard the stranger tap the wall and Hermione frowned. _What are they doing?_ She breathed in deeply, in an attempt to calm her nerves, then peeked from behind the tree. It was a man, tall, with low hair and deep olive skin. He was touching along the wall, as if searching for something, her presence unbeknownst to him. Did the heat not bother him? She took another step from behind the tree and was suddenly blinded—there was something dangling from his left wrist that caught the light from the sun and hit her face. Whatever it was she didn't pay it any mind, for it only bought attention to his wand which lay sticking out of his jacket pocket.

How foolish.

"Expelliarmus!" His wand flew to her hand and he turned around. Hermione found herself looking at a boy that looked no older than herself. His bright hazel eyes glaring at her. He looked… familiar?

"Who are you? Why are you here?" Hermione asked, wand still pointed at his face. She was closer to him now, but not close enough that the ward affected her. His eyes weren't hazel, they were a dark green and quickly transitioned from annoyed to smug—a bead of sweat on his forehead.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Zabini?" She asked, after recognizing the familiar change of attitude. Blaise Zabini. Slytherin. Tall, athletic frame, deep olive skin tone and the same smug reaction that all Slytherins seemed to share when they thought they had the upper hand.

He nodded, "Granger."

Before he even finished saying her name, his hands were tied behind his back. Blaise remained silent and didn't protest as the ropes tightened themselves.

"Why so far Granger?" He asked, a knowing smirk on his face. "The least you can do is constrain me out of the ward zone."

"What are you doing here?" She questioned.

He said nothing, his gaze falling on the locket she slipped over her head. His eyes flickered with some kind of understanding. "Now before you do anything rash Granger, I'm here looking for answers. Just like you." He stopped briefly to consider what he was going to say. "Look into my pocket and you'll find a replica of the locket you have around your neck."

She eyed him for a few seconds. Bracing herself the magical sauna she was about to enter, she took a couple steps near him but was surprised when she didn't feel a thing.

"What did you do?" They accused the other simultaneously.

They stared at each other in an awkward silence, then Blaise huffed, "I did nothing. You _took_ my wand. Remember?"

That much was true. Hermione looked up at the wall. Did they trigger something that removed the security measures?

Deciding she'll figure it out later, she carefully reached into Blaise's jacket pocket and pulled out the object that blinded her just a few moments ago—a new, shiny oval shaped locket that looked just like hers.

"How'd you get this-"

He stepped forward and she stepped back, lifting wand to his face. He stopped and glared at her, "I could ask you the same thing."

"How'd you-" She shook her head. With her wand still pointed to his face, she analyzed the locket more closely and read the letters 'NAC', the family crest in the back: Cantrell. _Fortitudo, Virtus, Fidelitas._

She looked up at him in shock. "There's no way - How'd you get ahold of this? Who did you steal it from!?" She asked more aggressively. How could he have possibly gotten ahold of this locket? Why were there two?

His face scrunch up in disgust. "Look, I didn't _steal_ it. I found out about this, _thing,_ " he gestured to the locket then the wall in front of them, "A few days ago. I saw your locket and I thought…" his voice flattered.

Hermione looked at him quizzically. "You got a letter from the Cantrells?" He nodded.

"And what did it say?" She asked curiously.

The boy scoffed and frowned. "Why should I tell you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione almost laughed; did he not feel the ropes that constrained him? Did he not see his wand in her hand? "You're tied up and I have your wand. I could easily turn you in for _lying_ and stealing what _isn't_ yours!"

With the look he gave her, she was sure that if he were an animal he would've pounced on her. Instead his dark eyes glared at her, his anger unmissable. "It. Is. _Mine_. Look, the letter said that these _Cantrell_ folks," He sneered. "Were my parents and that You-Know-Who was after them because of their power. Then, a whole bunch of other bullshit that I don't believe because that damn locket just directed me to the middle of nowhere!" He finished, letting out an exasperated breath and now looked at her with relaxed dark blue eyes. "In the middle of nowhere, with you of all people."

"How are you doing that?" She asked curiously, ignoring his last comment. She had seen his eyes change from hazel, green to black and now this blue. "How are your eyes changing colors?"

He shrugged. "A gift I was born with. I inherited it from my grandfather. He was a metamorphmagus. My eyes are as far as it goes." He muttered.

Hermione shook her head and turned her attention back to the locket. "NAC?"

"The letter said Nathaniel Alexandros Cantrell." Zabini replied.

If he was telling the truth then he was a Cantrell, not only a Cantrell but her _brother._ "I'm guessing we got here by the same miens. A loud wailing from the locket then-"

"I followed the clues and said the name." He interrupted. "My room disappeared and I landed here. This is my fourth time, and now that I see you have a locket..." He paused, then his eyes widen as he came upon a realization. "It all makes sense now!"

"What do you mean?" It didn't make _any_ sense. _None_ of it made sense. There was no way a Slytherin could be her-her—She begun to feel sick. Blaise Zabini was the last person she would have guessed if someone told her that she had a long-lost brother roaming the earth. He was just – him. He was a Slytherin, friends with Draco Malfoy. It was impossible to believe… but—

"Listen, I know you're contemplating on whether or not to believe me. But that locket is mine." He paused. "I don't know if you know much about security wards but it would explain why it stopped repelling us when you got into the ward zone—the lockets being in the same proximity. The lockets are our way to get through the wall."

Hermione said nothing to counter him. He was right. It was the only logical explanation for the ward's sudden evasiveness. She looked down to his locket; could Blaise Zabini really be a Cantrell?

Upon no rebuttal, Blaise grinned. "And now that you showed me your pretty little locket, I know exactly how to get past this thing." He said triumphantly, Slytherin's Smugness returning to his face. " _You_ need _me._ What do you say Granger?"

Hermione hesitated. Would she be willing to work with him? Who knew what was behind those walls. What if there was something evil behind it? Would he protect her? Would _she_ protect _him_? Could they work together?

No, Hermione surmised. She didn't know him. Why would she risk her like for him? Because some piece of paper and locket suggested they were of the same family? No.

She could easily go home. Forget about the damn wall and the locket and cursed letter. Try another time, when a war wasn't raging the Wizarding World. He said this was his fourth time here, so he had to know how to get back-wait.

"You said you were here four days ago," Hermione stated. He nodded, a suspicious brow raised at her. "But that can't be. We only returned from Hogwarts two days ago." She analyzed.

"My parents died Granger. Almost a week ago." He said bluntly, and she looked away from his steadfast gaze. "Dumbledore dismissed me earlier then everyone else to tend to family business... I found the letter waiting for me when I got home."

An awkward silence followed. "I'm…sorry for your loss." She finally said.

He shrugged.

Now she felt guilty. He spent the last four days trying to figure out how to get past a wall, when he should've been mourning the death of his parents. And there _she_ was, with the answer to questions that probably plagued his thoughts the last ninety-six hours, hanging around her neck.

Hermione sighed. She couldn't go back home. She was just as curious as he was...and they couldn't do it without the other. _Forced sibling bonding_ , she thought with a snort. _Very clever Cantrells._

"So you know how to get past this thing?" She said, catching the look of relief that came over his face.

"Yes I do...well I hope I'm right. You'll just have to trust my judgement."

Ah, trust. She was wondering when the word would come up.

Hermione pondered for another moment. "What side are you on?"

Blaise hesitated, but that didn't really surprise her—many Slytherin's struggled when asked the same question because of the ideology that they were raised with. "I'm on–your side." He said and for the time being, that would suffice.

"Fine, show me how to get in there. But I will keep your wand and your hands bonded for the time being." Zabini nodded in agreement. " _And_ ," She stressed. "If there is something behind there, something that could attack us, you have to promise that you'll have my back and in return I'll have yours."

With another stiff nod in agreement, he turned his back to her and began to examine in the wall.

She frowned, didn't he say he knew how to get passed it? She asked him.

"Well yes, but I'm looking for something. Leave me to my work, Granger."

"How about we go around it? It has to end somewhere."

"It doesn't. I checked. Now shut it!"

They stood in silence for a good ten minutes before Hermione chose to sit down. Not one person, car or carriage came passed them and she wondered if it was ever used. As the day grew darker the more Hermione planned on walking down to the village house to see if it was a wizarding community—maybe someone had a connected floo network; it didn't look like Zabini was getting the thing opened any time soon.

The wizard let out another frustrated growl, Hermione had to smile that time. "Problem Zabini?"

Blaise gave her an annoyed look before turning back around. "Could you untie me?"

Hermione laughed. "No."

He just raised an eyebrow, "Fine then you have to come over here and help me."

Hermione sighed as she got up. They should call it quits before it got completely dark-there was always tomorrow. She voiced her thoughts, but all he did was shrug.

"Does anyone know of your letter yet?" he asked, completely ignoring her suggestion.

Hermione didn't answer right away, not sure where he was trying to get at.

Then he said, "I'm just asking because I would think a girl like you would come accompanied by someone. Like Potter or Weasley."

Ah, there it was.

"No, my parents gave it to me when I arrived back from Hogwarts." Hermione replied coldly. There was another question looming-she felt it.

"So Potter and Weasley don't know you're here?"

She considered lying to him, but saw no use. "No they don't." She said it stiffly. On the train back from Hogwarts, she and an altercation with Ron that ended their relationship. She had put it to the back of her mind when she returned home, not wanting to come to terms with the fact that Ron was never interested in her. That he preferred the likes of Lavender Brown over her. It stung. And the fact that everyone seemed to know but her...She was embarrassed to say the least.

"Hit a nerve?"

"Bug off Zabini."

He chuckled quietly. "Anyway, since you won't untie me I need you to place both of our lockets into those two holes, right above your head."

Hermione looked right above her head to find two small oval shaped holes right beside each other. Hermione hesitantly put both of their lockets in.

The witch and wizard watched as a red light passed over their lockets, just like it did when Hermione first touched it. Then a straight line went down through the middle, between the two lockets and down to the floor. They heard, what sounded like an old gate opening and the ground vibrated softly. The walls started to pull apart and the wider they pulled, the more they saw of the great Cantrell Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always welcomed! :)  
> I would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Three**

SM <3

* * *

It looked like a castle; probably a miniature one but still a castle all the same. She didn't see much because the sun was so low in the sky but what she did see were dark yellow bricks, an elegant entrance and made out many windows. It didn't look as scary as Hermione imagined. The manor had abandoned for almost two decades, yet it didn't have a haunted look about it. The long trail to the entrance encompassed rose bushes, flowers and many different types of plants. Some of them still held their color after all the years and others turned a dead yellow, like the dead grass surrounding the manor.

"Granger." Blaise nodded towards the lockets and she quickly went to grab them. The walls behind them closed back up again with a loud thud. They started walking up the pathway and the further they went the more Hermione made out. At the entrance there were wide wooden doors that contrasted against the dark yellow bricks and a large, tall set of glass windows above it.

Zabini cleared his throat and Hermione looked at him, clearly annoyed. He gave her the same look in return. "You know, ignoring me will bring us nowhere. Don't you want to figure something out? You know, _before_ we step foot in the big bad manor?"

"And what can we possibly figure out from out here Zabini?" She rolled her eyes and continued to walk ahead.

"Oh, I don't know." He said sarcastically, earning a glare. "How about us being related. You know, _twins_?"

Hermione grimaced at the words.

"If we're twins," he continued. "We might have the same birthday … if our parents hadn't lied to us about that, too."

Hermione considered it. "We don't look alike" She noted.

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Fraternal twins don't look exactly alike Granger, but..." he hesitated. " _I_ can see some resemblance."

Hermione snorted, "right." She wondered if he was having the same doubts as her. If he was, he covered it very well.

"I was born September nineteen, nineteen seventy nine." Blaise said confidently and she felt like she was going to be sick. Was this really happening?

"Well—I was too."

There was an awkward silence as they both surmised what that meant. But it didn't last long. There were two things she grew to learn about him: the first was that he liked to talk things out.

"You wanted to hear that and yet you didn't."

The second being that he, surprisingly, read her well. It was rather intimidating and she found herself frowning at him.

"I'm just - Do you really want to be related to me? I assure you that I…don't. I've seen you at Hogwarts. You're a Slytherin and friends with Draco Malfoy, a boy who almost killed Professor Dumbledore-" He flinched at the mention. "-less than a week ago. I'm not usually one that judges people from their friends or houses but it's...bizarre. I don't know you Zabini and you don't know me. Forgive me if I don't jump for joy at the idea of being biologically related to you."

He narrowed his eyes, "I know plenty about you Granger, just from the company you keep. Those 'friends' of yours." He said tersely. "Then again, do you still call them friends? Call Slytherins a lot of things, but one thing is for certain—we look out for the other. Something your group of Gryffindor's seem to lack. Especially it seems, when it comes to you."

Hermione gasped. This was the second time he brought up what happened between her and Ron. She was honestly surprised that he, a Slytherin who seemed to pay her and her friends no mind back at school, knew what happened between the Golden Trio. "How dare you-"

"Judge you or your friends? The same way _you_ just did, Granger." He said it calmly, only a bit of anger in his voice that could've gone unnoticeable if she weren't paying attention. "You don't know me, that's fine. But you really have to learn to give people—give _me_ , a chance. Throughout Hogwarts, I have never said one offensive word to you. You do not have any reason to be so hostile toward me nor my character."

Hermione forced herself to wait until he was finished.

She was angry, no beyond angry. She was furious.

"Listen," She hissed. "You know nothing about me Zabini so don't try to tell _me_ about _myself_. I know who I am and I don't need you or anyone else to tell me! I never saw you walk up to introduce yourself in the last six years we have been in school. Matter fact, I never saw you present yourself to _any_ person in my house. It hypocritical of you to speak about something that you don't even follow."

There was a beat of silence, in which he looked away from her angry gaze, clearly embarrassed.

"One question; did you refrain yourself from talking to me because I was in Gryffindor or because I was a 'dirty mudblood'?"

His silence answered her question.

"At least Malfoy made his ignorant opinion known. Hypocrites like you, who say one thing but their actions portray another, make me sick. It's cowardly. It's spineless. But then again you _are_ a snake, I expect nothing better." Hermione turned from him and continued walking forward. She couldn't do this. She couldn't figure out answers with someone that she could only argue with. It was impossible, one of them might end up dead!

Hopefully the Manor had a fireplace she could connect to the floo. She wanted to go home.

They continued walking in silence and just when she thought she shut him up for the rest of their time together, Blaise went and opened his mouth. Hermione sighed tiredly.

"Ok, fine Granger. You're right."

Her jaw almost dropped. "What?"

"I said you're right. About everything. I am sorry. I think we should start over." He paused. "I would offer you a hand shake, but seeing as my hands are tied behind my back—Hello, I'm Blaise Zabini." His lips curled up to a small smile, but the rest of his face remained solemn.

Hermione looked at him weirdly and didn't say a word. She could tell he had more to say. She watched as he hesitated with next words; his mouth opened then closed it, twice.

"I'm sorry." He said again; it was a genuine apology and had caught her off guard. Blaise didn't wait for her to respond and continued the walk up the pathway.

The door entrance wasn't that far now. The sun was almost completely down and in the dark she hardly saw a thing. Her goal was just to get past the doors and into the house.

"I will _eventually_ , forgive you Zabini." She declared. He stopped to look back at her then nodded. His eyes were bright hazel now. That eye-color thing had to take some getting used to.

She glanced at the wizard and found him softly chuckling to himself. She frowned.

"You're wondering about my eyes aren't you?" He said and Hermione scowled. "You don't believe me, but it's true. They change according to my mood and sometimes I change them to suit others."

Hermione looked at him strangely. "What do you mean 'suit others'?"

"It mostly works on girls, even boys sometimes. Someone may be beyond angry but when they look at my eyes they calm down, bit by bit. I use that to my advantage though. Girls at Hogwarts-"

"Thanks Zabini but that's enough. No one needs to hear about your Hogwarts escapades." She looked at him disgustedly and Blaise smirked.

"I was born with a gift - and you weren't. Maybe the first born gets all the good genes." He joked.

Hermione almost cracked a smile. "Wait a minute, who says you're the oldest?"

Zabini gave her a look and she chuckled. The tension she had in her shoulders slightly eased. Hermione felt no need to be on her guard—the gates were closed and there was no one around to pounce or attack her. She doubted anyone could apparate past the wall. She had his wand and even if he did try to duel her, she was confident her Defense skills were way more advanced than his.

When they finally reached the entrance, they found the doors slightly ajar. Hermione and Blaise shared a look. Something wasn't right.

Blaise went in first, honestly a stupid move seeing as he didn't have a wand and his hands were tied-behind him. Better him, then her, She thought. But then she remember the promise she made about having his back and lifted both wand, ready for anything that could come out of the darkness.

As Blaise opened the doors, she gasped at the scene.

Dust and parchment was scattered all over the place. Frames and furniture broken and split in pieces all over the entrance. One of the entry walls looked as if something charged through it making a big hole. And blood. Dried up blood splattered all over the place. It was dark and murky with light only emitting from a single oil lamp in the middle of the hall. Hermione felt tears come to her eyes at the sight and smell of it all.

Something horrible happened there.

"T-this..this...Who would do this?" Her voice cracked. She did a quick lumos charm with Blaise's wand and the other remained in her right hand, prepared for attack. She walked a few steps inside and the further she went, the worse it became. There were pieces of burnt wood and glass all over the floor. She looked around and cringed away from the blood covered walls.

"It looks like a war happened in here." Blaise said quietly. He remained a few steps behind her, looking around for something. Finally, he found it and stopped at the wall opposite her.

"Is that…" She whispered, and then looked at him in confirmation. Blaise nodded and walked closer to it.

"The Dark Mark." He turned to look at her, with a look in his eye that she couldn't place. "Death Eaters did this." His eyes turn dark again but this time in anger. The two continued walking around the deserted mansion. It was a destroyed home-burnt parchment and wood, twisted chairs and sliced couches. In one of the rooms they found a death eater mask and they quickly lit it on fire.

Small tears fell down her face as she discovered more parts of the disaster. She felt the grief, the despair and inescapable sense of death in the air.

"Do you _feel_ that?" She whispered to him, taking a quick glance in is direction. Sadness stretched all over his face as he nodded. Again he refused to meet her gaze.

The Cantrell's were attacked in their home and for the first time since discovering the short letter, she felt something towards them. They _died_ in their home, a place where they should've felt safest. Both of them put their kids before themselves and made sure they were in a safe and away from the terror that would happen in their own home. They weren't cowards. They were valiant, they were brave and they fought—they didn't run. Suddenly she felt new found respect for the Cantrell's. Two strong individuals that she will never know.

Hermione and Blaise eventually found themselves in the kitchen; it was the only place in the mansion that wasn't as bad as the rest. There were cabinets, an oven, microwave and a refrigerator. The muggle appliances surprised Hermione, the only thing that would distinguish it from a muggle kitchen was the dirty pillow cases in a small corner; house elves had worked there.

"They are monsters. The Death Eaters made this place feel ghastly and haunted." Hermione said. She stood leaning on a wall with her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze on the floor.

"It is. The death eaters must've apparated inside once they went through the ward. The Cantrell's weren't stupid enough to leave it unprotected, someone probably betrayed them." His voice sounded grave.

"It looks like no one has touched this place since the night it happened. Either that or everyone has been too scared to come back."

Blaise nodded. "It must've happened after they left us with our families. But why would they leave and come back? Death was only awaiting them here…"

Hermione shuddered. She didn't even want to think about the answer to that question.

She tried to busy herself by looking around. In one of the shelves, Hermione found potion veils. One of them caught her eyes; Veritaserum, she discreetly put in her pocket and continued rummaging around.

"The parchments must've been of importance because it's all scattered and burnt. It looks like they were looking for answers also." Blaise said. "What do you know of the Cantrell's, Granger?"

Hermione sighed, "I don't know much. The first I heard of their names was when my parents handed me the letter. I only know the obvious—they're purebloods and could or could not be a part of the Sacred Twenty –Eight… I assume no one knew they had kids." Hermione finished slowly. No one knew. Except the Grangers and Zabini's. She wondered why they had kept it such a secret. Yes, they had done it for their safety but for almost two years? Without anyone knowing that they had twins?

"Is that all you know?" Blaise asked, retrieving her from her thoughts.

Hermione frowned. "Why? You know more?"

"I've had time on my hands." He said grimly. Once again she was reminded that he had no time to properly mourn the death of his parents. Whether that was his own choice, she wouldn't know. "The Zabini's may not be an Ancient and Noble House in England but we are respected in other parts of the world and our library is vast."

"What else did you find out?" She had to admit that she was impressed.

"The basics. Most based off old _Prophet_ paper and publications." He started. "Your guesses are correct. The Cantrell's were a pureblood family. One of the oldest and some would even put them in the same category as the founding members of the Wizarding World—not just England but globally. They're recognized as a Head Family in various counties. Well... At least they were." He sat down on one of the dusty stools. "The family began to keep a low profile in the early 1800s—that's when they withdrew their spot from the Wizengamot." All of that notability yet she never came across their names in history books, Hermione thought. How was that possible? "There's less publications about them after 1798 but prior to that, many of their family members we murdered. Killed. Kidnapped. Gone missing. I assume they decided to keep a low profile to preserve their family, their name, their money and their power. And it worked. As the years passed most wizards in England forgot who the Cantrell's were." Blaise paused. "That is, until Alexandros Cantrell went to Hogwarts."

Hermione gasped. "Wha—how?"

He rolled his eyes. "You get a letter the summer before you—"

"You know what I mean Zabini. You said they wanted to keep a low profile. Why would he risk that and go—"

"You should know better than I do—bravery is a Gryffindor thing, isn't it?"

Hermione stared, a small smile coming to her face. "He was a Gryffindor?"

Blaise rolled his eyes again. "Yes. Did you expect anything else?" Hermione shrugged. She didn't know what to expect from them. She hadn't' a clue who they were just moments ago. "Anyway so Alexandros goes to Hogwarts, graduates and people realize he was different. Different from his father and his father, father because he wanted to be _involved_. Alexandros, along with his wife Mya, were probably the most known because of their public involvement with the war and publically renounced Dark Magic along with anything else that had to do with Voldemort. He was actually in the middle of reinstating his seat on the Wizengamot before You-Know-Who…" He trailed off. "But he gained most attention when he married Mya. It upset a lot of people."

"Why?" Hermione inquired. "Who…who was Mya before she was a Cantrell?"

"Before marrying Cantrell she was, Mariah Harmony Malone… Slytherin house." He said with a smirk.

Hermione's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Slytherin house?

"She changed her name when she got married because she was named after her grandmother. Old Mariah had horrible beliefs and was known for creating dark spells and potions and used it to torture muggles. As you may have guessed, the Malone's were a pureblooded family consisting of highly recognized dark wizards and witches. Her family was very committed to Dark Magic, especially blood magic—it's a very popular form of magic used in certain parts of Italy. They were even great supporters of Grindelwald, way back when. No one knew Mya was a lion hiding in a snakes body until her last year of Hogwarts came and she never returned home. Eventually it was slipped that she married the great and noble Alexandros Cantrell and she was subsequently cut off from her family." Blaise then turned his attention to one of the many cabinets. There was something in his eyes he didn't want her to read.

"Are any of the Marlone's still alive?" She moved from off the floor and went to the door of the kitchen, contemplating if she should wonder around or not. Her curiosity kept urging her to explore. When she turned her attention back to him, she found him squinting down at a bottle of wine, "This place has been here for many, many decades." He informed her. "But yes, she had two brothers. One of them are married and a known death eater. The other…hasn't been seen in a long time."

"How do you know so much about her?" She watched him slowly turn back around.

"If you untie me, I'll be more than happy to tell you." The bright-eyed wizard smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed her wand at him, cutting the ropes.

"When my parents died and left everything to me, I found a lot of things in relation to them. My mom, Leilani Zabini was daughter of the Catalano family and they were very close to the Marlone's. Though she didn't quite speak to Mya until they went to Hogwarts. I've found pictures and parchment that proved it. She left a note for me too…with the letter." He paused, lost in thought then quickly shook him head. "They weren't best friends. Just two student who were both very smart and always paired off together in Potions."

So Mrs. Cantrell knew the Zabini's, somewhat.

"Is that why you think they put you with a pureblood family?" Hermione asked quietly. "Do you think your mom volunteered to keep you?" If she was put under the care of muggles for safe keeping, why put their son under purebloods who may have been supporters to Voldemort?

"I don't know. That's something she failed to mention in her note… But people have their reasons Hermione. I-if we fix this place up… maybe we can find some answers." Answers. That's what he was looking for the last four days. Answers to questions about decisions that were made about his life, and her life, almost sixteen years ago.

Hermione nodded and existed out of the kitchen to the horrible mess outside of it.

She didn't pay much attention to the disaster around her. Her parents, the Grangers, were on her mind. Did they know all of this? About the Cantrell's past? About the disastrous place that the lockets would take her?

What was the point of sending her to a place where such misfortune happened? And, why now? She planned on going back to see them as soon as she could, they were acting strange when she left them, as if it was the last time…

Hermione put the horrible thought in the back of her mind and turned down a hall with an air of honest curiosity as she explored the rest of the manor. She hope she didn't encounter any other slightly frightening scenes but held her wand ready, all the same. As she turned a corner, she tripped over a large, dusty frame. She kneeled down she took off the burnt pieces of wood and paper, gasping at what she found.

It was the portrait of the famous pair; the last two Cantrell's. Alexandros stood beside his wife, smiling down at her. His short, light brown hair was held at the nape of his neck. He had young hazel eyes that reminded her of Zabini's and pale skin that stood out next to his wife. A beautiful smile graced his face as he looked down at her. Hermione looked at the beautiful women standing beside him, struck by her beauty. Mya Cantrell had beautiful, with glowing skin just like Zabini's own deep olive features. Her eyes a deep muddy brown color that was similar to Hermione's own. She had long, straight black hair that fell into soft curls. Mya's features reminded Hermione of the infamous Cleopatra and it was only accentuated by the regal aura that seemed to envelop her—actually, both Mya and Alexandros. She was smiling and laughing, as if nothing could touch them. Hermione felt as if the beautiful women knew she was there. She was mesmerized by the portrait and reached up to delicately touch the woman's face, before standing up and turning away from the happy pair.

She headed back to the kitchen with a goal of bringing Blaise to the portrait. As she opened the door of the kitchen, she found Blaise on his knees, titling forward with his forehead of the ground. His face was pinched together and his breath came out loudly—he was in pain.

"Zabini?" Hermione whispered stepping closer to him, but he only moved back, his now dark eyes, on her but still contorted with pain.

Blaise got up slowly, reaching for something to help him up and Hermione gasped in horror as his left forearm came into view and showed the crawling tattoo of the dark mark.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Four**

SM <3

* * *

 _Stupid._ That was the only word that went through Hermione's head.

For the smartest witch at Hogwarts she was really dense. Not only dense but she was so very naïve.

A death eater, all the clues were there and she _still_ believed the lying Slytherin.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Hermione mumbled. Dizziness overtook her and she suddenly felt unnaturally heavy. What _is_ happening? She saw Zabini move and she gripped her wand, trying her best to focus on the wizard. He slowly pulled himself up, refusing to meet her in eyes; his gaze intently on the floor.

Pathetic, lying-

"Hermione-"

"It's Granger, to you!" Her headache increased. _Don't scream Hermione, no screaming._

"Look let me explain-"

"Explain what? How you led me here to ambush me? To kill me? Go ahead and try, because I've fought bigger and _stronger_ things then you Zabini! You won't achieve anything." The witch said as calmly as she could.

"I wasn't trying to kill you! Why would I go through all the trouble to go into this house-?"

"To be more convincing?! I know how you _monsters_ work. Have you forgotten I've spent seven years of my life facing them? How long have you been in the business Zabini? Three months? A week? You can't even handle the pain of the mark!" The louder she yelled the faster everything grew murky and distorted. _This is not good, pull yourself together Hermione!_

"Hermione look, I'm not- I don't-" He hissed in pain and looked at his mark. For the first time he looked at her and his eyes widened in shock.

"You look horrible, Granger. Why don't you sit down-" He walked toward her and she lifted her wand lazily. "Don't touch me!" she breathed out. A large wail rang in her ears and she gasped in pain, reaching to cover her ears and dropping both wands on the floor in front of her.

"I have to go…. But please don't go anywhere stay here and I promise I'll explain everything when I get back. Just… don't go, please!" He picked up his wand from the floor, his movements slow in her mind, and ran down the hall and out the door. The click of the door was the last thing she heard before darkness consumed her.

* * *

When Hermione awoke she found herself lying on the hard floor, confused and unsteady. Her body was trembling and she felt as if her fingers where frozen. Her surroundings were still blurry as she struggled to get a hold of herself.

"Urg…" She could hardly make out anything in the dark room. She felt around for her wand, with trembling hands. Once she got a hold of it she put a quick warming charm over her body.

' _Just what the hell did I get myself into?_ ' Hermione asked herself. It was hard to believe that just a week ago she was calmly sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating pie and talking happily with her friends. Now, she felt like she was being held captive. She didn't know how to get home—she never asked Zabini how he did it.

Zabini… a Death Eater.

How? And most importantly, why?

It was easy for her to sit across the Slytherin table and pick out who was or could become a Death Eater. Never would she assume Blaise Zabini one to hold the mark. He was hardly confrontational, always in the background and never drawing attention to himself.

Then again, neither was Barty Crouch Junior when he was at Hogwarts and he turned out to be a murdering psychopath.

But Zabini wasn't Barty Crouch. He was sane. He was emotional. He knew what pain was. She saw it in his eyes when he talked about his mum.

_And still a Death Eater._

Hermione let out a frustrated grunt. She still wanted the answers. A large part of her wanted to stay, wait for Zabini and listen to what he had to say. The image of Alexandros and Mya Cantrell was permanently stitched into her mind-she couldn't just walk away and ignore the fact that the physical similarities between them was there. She _wanted_ to learn about herself and her background.

She _wanted_ to stay.

Blaise Zabini may be a death eater, but there was no denying that he was a Cantrell—he was a spitting image of Mya but with Alexandros' eyes. The portrait was proof.

...Maybe...Hermione stopped, cringing at her own thoughts…Maybe…

He _was_ a death eater… yet, when he took his wand he hadn't kill her nor did he try. She saw the expression on his face. The look in his eyes. She had seen confusion, honesty, sincerity, and concern… Was he that good of an actor? Was he fooling her or telling the truth?

 _Never trust a Slytherin, Hermione._ Didn't Harry tell her the same thing just a couple days ago?

Could all of them really be the same person? Untrustworthy? Betray you without a blink of an eye...? A part of her wanted to believe Zabini couldn't harm her. That he wouldn't harm her. That he was on her side and that the mark was just her imagination.

 _It was very real Hermione. You_ saw _it._

Suddenly, in the distance Hermione heard the loud thud of the outer gates closing again and knew he had returned. She reached for her neck, partially expecting it to be gone and partially surprised to find it around her neck. How did he get back in? She tried to apparate again, but it didn't work.

Hermione heard the click of the front door opening and quickly left the chaotic kitchen and hid in the dark shadows of the halls. She heard two pairs of feet making their way to the kitchen, then stopped, their low voices reaching her ears.

"…I don't know why you asked me to come. What help am I?" One of the pair said angrily. "I think you should do this on your own Blaise. Whatever _it_ is, only brought the two of you here and I'm sure they'll be surprised to find a third part to your party." There was a moment of silence before she heard a deep sigh.

"You're right. I just- I'm going to handle this myself. Thanks anyway…"

"If I don't hear from you in a week, I'll assume you're dead." They quietly chuckled and Hermione heard footsteps going the opposite way

"Draco, remember, not a word to anyone."

_He brought Malfoy here?!_

Malfoy laughed and said "Never—not like I can." He left the house with a click of the door shutting behind him.

Blaise remained in his spot for a few seconds, then moved around the kitchen. Hermione slowly eased off the wall and quietly walked through the dark hallway. She hadn't bothered to light up her wand, not wanting to drawn attention to herself. She turned a corner and tripped over something, falling hard on her side.

"Ah!" She tried to keep her cry as low as possible. The witch felt her head and winced at the sore then again when she came in contact to blood. She was in too much pain and found that she couldn't move.

"Mistress Cantrell?" It was a small and squeaky voice. Hermione looked up, through her teary eyes, and was met with the big eyes of a house elf. She took out her wand and illuminated it. His bald head showed in the light of the wand and the grimy pillow case that went over his little body. The elf looked like any other elf but at the same time… different. The small creature's eyes seemed to drag down his face appearing as ovals, not golf balls that she remembered Dobby had.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked quietly. The elf took a step back and then bowed.

"Billy was ordered to get you Ms. Cantrell. Billy has been serving this family for as long as he can remember. Billy has been left with family secrets that he has to share with the Cantrell heirs." Hermione found your strength and quickly stood up before the elf.

"What you said your name was?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Billy, miss." Why hadn't he come before? She looked at him suspiciously.

"How am I to know you can be trusted?" The elf looked appalled, if it was possible.

"Billy will never betray anyone in the family. Billy-" Hermione heard loud footsteps somewhere near and she crouched down to the elf's level.

"Billy, do you have a floo? I don't want answers right now. I need to get out of here."

The elf nodded his head vigorously. "Billy understands. Billy knows how you can get home."

"Lead the way." The pair took off down the hall in a rush, Hermione practically ran to catch up with Billy. They passed many doors and portraits. One door was open and she caught sight of many scrolls. Many where nailed to the wall and others sat on shelves. She promised herself she would go in there someday. But not today. Today she wanted to get home as soon as possible. She wanted to go back to a world where the Grangers were the only family she had and Zabini was as far away from her as possible.

"Here we are." They stopped in front of a blank portrait.

"Beyond the portrait is the Portkey Room. Miss must enter and she will be home." The elf poked Hermione in the side and she stumbled forward. She gave the elf a wary look. "Are you sure?" The elf nodded its bald head and took a step back giving her more space.

"See you soon Mistress Cantrell."

When Hermione climbed through the door, Billy closed it behind her. She ended up in a dark room, even with her illuminated wand there wasn't much to see; just four walls-no portkey in sight. She touched the walls just to find them as cold as ice

"Help!" Hermione screamed. Her voice only echoed. Suddenly she felt a strong force pulling her at the arm. She kicked and shoved but it wouldn't let go. The thing just held on tighter. All of a sudden, she felt the similar sensation of being sucked in through a tube.

When she opened her eyes she was met with tall grass. She groaned and rolled over on her back. The moon and stars gazed back at her. _Where the hell am I_? Hermione took in her surroundings and recognized them immediately. She was at the park near her home. Billy managed to get her home! Hermione sat up and slowly stood on her feet. She looked at the arm that pushed and pulled her when she entered the portrait and found it bruised.

A million questions were running in her mind but they all stopped when her locket started heating up on her chest. She took it off and put it in her pocket. She was _home_ , she didn't need the Cantrell's anymore. With the goal to finally return to her parents, she began her march back to the Granger home. As she neared it, she began to hear yelling. A couple people ran past her, in their sleeping attire, a look of horror stretched over their faces.

"Run! Someone call the police!"

Hermione ran the opposite direction. _What is going on?_ She saw a young woman running her way and stopped her. Her heart beating loudly against her chest.

"Can you tell me what's going on please?" Hermione asked her hurriedly. The women looked horrible. Big tears were running down her face, a trembling dog held tightly to her chest "T-t-there's a big fire at the house just around the corner, I was just walking my dog wh-when-It's just h-h-horrible. The fire is just getting bigger and bigger you h-have to g-go Hun!"

Hermione felt her heart stop. She knew the house the lady was talking about but refused to believe it was….. NO!

"Wher-where, are you going?! You must go the-" Hermione didn't hear the girl. She just kept running. There was no way—there was—

She ran past the police officers who were trying to lead people away, before turning the corner and stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening in horror.

It wasn't just a fire. It was her worst nightmare becoming a reality.

The _Fiendfyre_ curse angrily engulfed her home, setting ablaze everything that was within its reach. Reaching and grappling for any form of life to burn and destroy.

She held her wand tightly in her hand; bruised arm forgotten, her mind set on going into the fire and rescuing her parents. She stepped toward the ragging fire, only to be held back by the same force that she felt back in the small room that led her home. It pushed and tugged at her arm no matter how hard she fought back. Before getting sucked into it she caught sight of the dark mark right above her beloved home.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Five**

SM<3

* * *

 

Hermione awoke with an excruciating headache. She tried sitting up, but her body felt like it was on fire. She attempted to move to her right side, in search for her wand but only groaned at the agonizing pain she felt when she moved her right arm.

"Hermione…"

She used her left hand to feel the soft cushioning of a bed. Whose bed was she lying on? Where was she? _What happened_? A million thoughts ran through her head, worsening her headache.

"….You had no right…."

Hermione opened her eyes only to close them again—the brightness of the room she was in was practically blinding.

"…I don't care! She's been through a lot and you…"

Zabini! She thought. And everything came back to her in flashes; Zabini, Cantrell Manor, his dark mark, Billy, the fire- _the Fire_!

"….Don't start that shit with me! You don't know anything…You've sat here for almost sixteen years…"

The fire. Her house was on fire. Someone set the _fiendfyr_ e curse on her home. On her childhood! On her parents! She remembered all the screaming muggles and the ragging flames. The dark mark that stood on top of her home and her parents—

"Zabini?" Hermione called out. Her voice was hoarse and rough, as if she hadn't spoken in months. She heard him arguing with another voice that remained unrecognizable to her. Using all her strength, the witch sat up. She opened her eyes again and let them adjust to the bright light. She made out the white bandage around her right arm. Hermione looked down at her other arm and just found a few minor cuts. It didn't look bad; she was alive. She reached for her wand, ignoring the pain in her arm and slipped it in her pocket. After taking a calming breath, she slowly stood up from the bed and almost made it to the door before she collapsed to the ground.

The argument in the other room stopped. She heard a door slam and another open. Suddenly Blaise was crouching in front of her, attempted to pull her up to her feet. She used all her force to push him off.

"Hermione you have to rest. Just get on the bed-" He tried getting her up again but she only pushed him away for a second time.

"No- I have to-"

"…rest. Hermione, I'll explain what happened when-" He grabbed her again. Hermione took out her wand and lazily pointed it at him, her arm almost numbing from the unrelenting pain.

"Step away from me Zabini! My parents are stuck in a fire and I have to go get them." Hermione yelled as she attempted to sit up.

"Hermione you-"

"No, let me go! I-I have to save them! They are the only thing I have left." Her voice cracked but she was determined not to cry. Blaise let go of her and she dropped to the floor, tears threatened to fall from her face. _Do not let him see you cry!_

"You've been asleep for four days." He said softly. "You tried stopping the curse and lost control of your magic. It drained all of you energy so—"

Hermione's head quickly snapped up. "What?" she asked in disbelief. That just couldn't be possible!

"You've been asleep for four days. I followed you soon after you went through the portrait. Hermione, they found your parents in the fire-" The witch was hardly listening; instead she stared numbly at the white wall.

There was no way. They—

"… They found them in the kitchen with all the ruins if the house - "

No. no. no. no.

"...the muggle police did all they could Hermione, but-"

"Take me." She said quietly. Blaise looked at her worriedly.

"I don't think that's the best thing-"

"Take me, or I'll go myself." Nothing was going to stop her, not even the growing headache. Not even the magic that felt very brittle and broken within her.

All she knew was that she had to go see it for herself.

Blaise only looked at her, pity stretched all over his face. After a beat of silence, he grabbed her hand and they disapparated.

* * *

There was nothing left of her home. Just ash and smoke. The silence that surrounded her was eerie and frightening. Even the trees didn't make a sound as the wind picked up around her. She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't feel anything. She was numb.

How could she let this happen?

She went inside the wreck and picked up a broken picture frame that survived the fire. It was a picture they took last Christmas. The large tree full of decorations, presents and they were wearing the sweaters that Mrs. Weasley sent them earlier that morning. Her dad loved them from the moment he unwrapped them and with all his excitement he fell onto the couch and smashed her mother's vase. The look on his face was priceless and Hermione almost laughed remembering it.

What was she supposed to do _without_ them?

How was she going to live her life knowing her parents were d-de—gone?

A sharp pain hit her chest. An unbearable pain that was so painful it made her knees buckle and she fell to the floor. A loud cry but no tears came from her eyes. She refused to cry. She had to fight. This was war and she had to fight.

Her parents were _dead_ —she had to fight.

She had to fight back.

The curly-haired witch felt a hand on her shoulder; a very gentle and very hesitant hand.

"They were already dead before the fire hit. All clues led back to magic and when the Aurors got here they said it was Death-"

"Eaters. I saw the Dark Mark above the house."

Blaise put a tentative arm around her shoulder when she stood up, but Hermione stepped away from him. They weren't friends. They _were not_ family. He was the last person she wanted with her at that very moment.

He was a Death Eater.

"Did you know?" She whispered.

"I-I…N—"

"Were you there?!" She turned angry eyes on him. Her wand sat at her side, her knuckles white from the pressure in which she was holding them.

His eyes were a dark blue, so full of sadness, grief…and a hint of anger. They flickered briefly that that's when she saw it.

Pain, loss and...Understanding.

He had gone through this before.

He lost his parents. Just as she did. He understood this pain.

And all of a sudden he was human again. He was in this war too. And he had suffered. His parents died just like—the sharp pain in her chest hit her again.

Everything made sense now. His parents, the letter, her parents' off behavior.

Something in her mind clicked and it all finally made sense.

"He killed your parents, didn't he?"

He tried to mask his pain but she saw it.

"They gave you the letter before they died… Didn't they? You didn't find it…they gave it to you…knowing they were going to die?"

He nodded stiffly. "I wasn't there Hermione." He took a step toward her. His eyes so sincere and a cloudy gray, like droplets of rain from the sky...like the tears that refused to fall from her eyes. "I was called for a meeting in the outskirts of London. I-I had no idea." He paused and looked away from her. "I am so sorry. I wish I had known but I…I'm not allowed any information on those missions. I—"

With a frustrated grunt he plopped himself on the ground beside her. "While we were walking toward the manor, you know after we opened up the wall?" She nodded. "You said called me cowardly and spineless. You said I'm a snake…that you 'expect nothing better from a snake.'" He tapped his wand on a piece of dirt in front of him and she watched as a single white lily grew from the ground, almost glowing against the darkness that surrounded it.

"I am a Death Eater because of that. I am cowardly. I am spineless." He said barely above a whisper, eyes intently on the glowing lily. "B-but I don't want to be. I found a reason not to be. I…you…e-everything that has happened to me in the last week has given me a reason to fight. A-and I want to. I want to fight." Blaise's blue eyes looked up at her. Sincerity and honestly stretched across them.

A silence engulfed them. Not an awkward silence or a comfortable one. But a silence where both Blaise and Hermione reflected on their own loses…their own parents. And soon after that silence Hermione heard the trees again; the familiar sound of the leaves and branches swaying as wind wafted through them.

Maybe she wasn't alone.

Hermione took a seat on the ground next to him, and tapped the dirt with her wand, just as he did moments before. Another glowing lily grew from the ground and at the stem, it intertwined itself with the other.

They sat side by side, as the sun set deeper into the sky. The lilies continued to glow well into the night, as darkness increasingly surrounded them.

"Then we fight."

* * *

They sat under her maple wood tree. A small glow from their wands sitting between them. After walking away from her destroyed home, they found themselves in her park. All feelings of mourning, grief and sadness gone from Hermione's mind. Now wasn't the time to mourn. Now was the time for answers.

"Where does everyone think I am? Do they think I died with them or-" Hermione finally asked.

"I don't know. But when I came by yesterday I saw Lupin and Potter looking around. They looked worried." It was comforting words for her. Harry was always one to worry and it suddenly made her feel guilty that she didn't tell them where she was. Hermione made a mental note to get in contact with him. Soon. The last thing she needed was Harry risking his life searching for her when she was alive and safe.

"W-what happened with Billy?" She didn't know whether to be happy or angry with the little elf that appeared out of thin air and brought her back home. She couldn't help but wonder about the elf's timing.

How was it that the moment the elf appeared to her death eaters attacked her home? Why hadn't Billy appeared to them the moment they entered the gates? Was the elf trying to show her the death of her parents? Was he trying to give her a chance to stop it? Whatever Billy was planning had only been a few minutes too late or maybe perfectly on time...She felt the pain in her chest increase just thinking about the possibility she had to save her parents and tried to focus her attention on what Blaise was saying.

"….you're actually calling it by a name? Granger, the thing led you to what I assume must be the last thing you would want to remember…"

Her parents were dead and she couldn't help but wonder if–if she had stayed…maybe she could have prevented everything. Her parents would have been alive and she would've been there with them; to see her mom's smile when Hermione told her about her usual crazy year at Hogwarts, or sitting with her dad on the kitchen counter and watch him make faces at the exotic dinner they prepared together. Hermione felt tears come to her eyes again.

" _You should be so confused honey. Take your time and just call if you need us okay?" Jane said. Hermione took a deep breath and stood up. Her mom immediately pulled her into a hug._

" _I love you, Hermione" She whispered._

" _Love you to, mum". She hugged her for a few moments longer before letting go._

The last moment they had together almost made her feel like the both of them knew what would be their fate. As if it was all planned; tell her the news, give up the letter, say goodbye and finally wait for a death eater to come and kill them...But without fighting back? Her parents wouldn't do that… right? Did they know there was going to be an attack? Did they give her the letter so she would be safe and leave them behind?

"…I couldn't find the thing after I had put you to sleep so I went searching around the manor…"

Everything happened in such an organized and precise way, as if someone was sitting around orchestrating it. If that were true, it would mean her parents had known in advance when to give her the letter. And the elf, Billy, should have known when to appear to her and the time she was supposed to be in the portrait, to see the flames engulf her home. Everything happened in a well-organized order, even the death eaters…

_The Cantrells._

It was the only conclusion Hermione came up with and the only thing that made sense. Yet, it was simultaneously impossible. All of the Cantrell's were dead. She saw their home, she saw the disaster... but then again, all of the secrets and mysteries she recently discovered about the family made her think otherwise. The more the she thought about it the more she believed it to be true…

"Hermione, Hermione! Are you listening?" Blaise snapped his fingers and she drew her attention to the boy now standing beside her.

"I—what did you say?"

He gave her a grim smile before answering. "We have someone else staying with us at the manor." Hermione raised an eyebrow. If she was right…

"I think it's time for you to meet Alexandros Bryant Cantrell."

"Who exactly?"

"Our beloved father."


	6. Chapter 6

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Six**

SM <3

* * *

_Father._

Hermione suddenly hated the word. It brought a nasty churn in her stomach that made her nauseous. The feeling only worsened when it came out of the mouth of Blaise Zabini.

'… _our father'._ Urg.

Hermione Granger's mother and father were dead; gone with the rest of their home and her heart. Her mind couldn't wrap around the fact and she refused to believe she'll never see them again. Because when she did, there was pain, so much pain that started deep in her heart and traveled like a cold nerve through the rest of her body. The mental pain was nothing compared to the tremors she felt physically.

Blaise tried to be supportive, but it was hard for him to talk about his parents—to try to relate to the pain that she felt. And Hermione didn't force him to do or say more than he could since she hardly knew the boy. How could he possibly know how to help her?

What Hermione needed was a friend. Someone who understood her without her having to say a word.

She needed Harry Potter.

Hermione knew he had to be worried sick about her. Since returning from the wreckage that was once her family home, she focused on trying to find a way to reach out to the Order to tell them she was fine. They had no clue where she was and were probably planning an attack on the death eaters in rebuttal. Someone could get hurt. Someone could die. And, it'll be her fault...again.

While she was eager to see everyone, the thought of going to Number 12, Grimmauld Place gave her anxiety. When she got there, what would she say? Would she tell them the truth? That she was _one_ of the heirs to the mysterious and powerful Cantrell family? Would they even recognize the name? Then there was Blaise. How could she explain that her "twin" was a death eater? The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became so she found herself shoving it to the back of her mind. Which proved to be easy considering her current situation.

Both Hermione and Blaise stood in a dark hallway, on the second floor of the manor. They apparated back after Blaise informed her that apparation in the manor only worked when he encouraged the magic within locket; he had a theory that the lockets were made with Blood Magic but she refused to believe it-Blood Magic was forbidden, an ancient art that hadn't been used in centuries. There was no way the Cantrell's would harness it then give it in the form of a locket to a pair of muggles and a toddler.

But then again, she didn't actually know who they were and what they were capable of. She was beginning to learn not to underestimate the Cantrell's because they were full of surprises.

A living and breathing Alexandros Bryant Cantrell was a perfect example.

Apparently, Blaise saw her go through the portrait and followed. He saw the Dark Mark, saw her losing the little stability she had left and grabbed her—pulling them both back to the Manor. In his haste he forgot to use the power of the locket to get back, the wards prevented their entrance and physically attacked them-Hermione got the worst of it since she was being transported by side-along apparation. The wards attacked both physically and internally, hitting her magic and exhausting it further.

Instead of causing her any more harm, he used the lockets magic. He screamed his Cantrell name into the locket, opened up the gates and found _him_ standing just beyond the entrance. Alexandros Cantrell alive and well, standing in the middle of his garden as if no time had passed. As if he wasn't supposed to be dead.

Blaise was of course shocked, not knowing what to say. There was no formal introduction, but he just _knew_ it was him. After Cantrell caught sight of Hermione, he demanded Blaise to take her to the manors infirmary in the east wing. But he didn't follow him into the manor and Blaise didn't see him for another forty-eight hours. He was beginning to think it was a ghost that he saw, some kind of enchantment that they triggered but on the forty-ninth hour, Cantrell walked through the doors, did a medical evaluation and conjured up some potions. Another thirty-six hours passed before Blaise ran into him in the hallway. He was prepared for him that time around and the arguments started just as Hermione woke up. Perfect timing right?

Too prefect and Hermione couldn't help but think that the death of not only her parents, but also Zabini's, had something to with the reincarnated Cantrell.

_The man was a coward._

Where was he all these years? Did he run away? Was Mya Cantrell also alive? Waiting for the right moment, the right _disaster_ to occur, before popping back into their lives again?

Most importantly, Why now? The war, Ron's betrayal, the Cantrell's, her parents... _Why now?!_

The Cantrell's were _supposed_ to be dead. After seeing firsthand the disaster Death Eaters left in the manor, how could he have possibly survived? She was very curious to know what happened all those years ago. It would help explain why the couple was missing for almost sixteen years.

Blaise pushed her forward and she turned to glare at him. He ignored it and walked past her, taking a spot next to a pair of dark maple doors then. He gave her a look that she would grow to know so well; the 'you have to calm down and promise to control yourself' look. Because on the other side of the doors, Alexandros Cantrell was waiting for them. Alive and requesting to speak to them.

"Are you ready?" asked the wizard beside her. "We don't have to do this today...especially after the day you've had..."

Hermione gave him a firm nod anyway, but Blaise reached for the knob with a bit of hesitation.

"What's wrong Zabini?"

He opened his mouth then closed it.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Hermione asked intrigued, yet cringing upon the memory of the last time he lied to her.

He scratched the back of his neck, "No, it's nothing." He then turned the knob and took a step inside, Hermione right behind him.

The library was by far, the best place in the manor. A grand, elegantly decorated and mostly untouched space. At the entrance, there were three small lamps sitting on tea tables, each beside an old arm chair. Flaxen yellow and maroon warmed the walls in Georgian décor. Hermione drifted her gaze to the many bookshelves. Columns of books expanded from floor to the ceiling and appeared never ending. Some book shelves were broken, others collapsed and some looked good as new. Although she was angry, Hermione stood amazed.

"Careful Granger, you're scaring the books." Hermione scowled at him and he responded with a chuckle. She walked past the isles of books and back. There was no other soul in sight.

"Where is _he_?" Hermione asked coolly. "And you still haven't told me what Cantrell offered you in exchange for this meeting."

Blaise shrugged and sat on one of the chairs. "He said he would be here, to explain some things. I guess he went out."

He ignored her second question, and she let it slide. " _Out?_ Where would he go? The world thinks he's dead."

Blaise shrugged again, pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the seat. Hermione huffed and walked away from the clearly irritated Slytherin. She walked through isles of books reading the many titles as she went. She was, after all, in the library of an ancient family. The books were probably more than hundreds upon hundreds years old and the curiosity _was_ killing her. Hermione picked up a random book and tried to calm her nerves. Every few minutes, she would look up in search for an elder wizard.

She was in the middle of the first chapter in _'History of Maynard Cantrell 1705-1860,_ when she felt something behind her.

"Belle?" His voice was low, hesitant and full of so many emotions that she didn't want to come to terms with yet. Hermione expected him to look old and besmeared, with graying hair, aging eyes and sinking wrinkles. She _wanted_ him to look like the last couple of years have been nothing but hell for him. But, she was vastly disappointed.

Alexandros Cantrell stood before her in elegant dark blue robes, his familiar brown hair was combed back and tied together at the nape of his neck-not one graying hair in sight. He could be no older then forty years of age. His face was hard and overtly masculine; pointed, thick eyebrows with almond shaped eyes. His jaw line and prominent cheek bones were taut, emphasizing his Grecian features. His only flaw was the soft wrinkles around his eyes and in his forehead, from pain or stress? She didn't know. She remembered his kind, hazel eyes from the portrait. They were the only features of his face that held some kind of kindness and warmth—a kindness one could easily take advantage of.

Overall he looked strong and well, not at all old or broken. At least not physically. The pain behind his eyes was unmistakable.

"It's Hermione. Hermione Granger." She said coldly. He grimaced, but nodded in agreement anyway.

She met his eye then quickly looked away. He was trying a look of indifference but Hermione saw truth in his eyes.

Happiness. Happiness at the sight of _her._

Hermione put the book back and gripped her wand in her pocket. He watched her movements and slowly raised his hands.

"I'm not here to fight. My name is Alexandros Cantrell...You can call me Andy, Alexandros is a mouthful." He paused, and looked for the right words to say, "I believe you found my letter? The letter that led you here." She simply nodded and he continued. "I want to talk to you and your brother together…could you please come with me?" He changed his tone. His voice was now deep and refined. It was authoritative and controlled-void of any emotion.

Hermione would've said no. She also could've said she didn't have a brother, but she held her tongue. Her body moved on its own accord and she found followed him to the seating area where Blaise was playing with his wand. Hermione sat on the armchair beside him.

"I didn't see you come in." Blaise mumbled to Cantrell. The elder wizard said nothing and sat on the seat a across from them. They sat in silent for a while. Hermione watched as his gaze flicked between the both of them; analyzing their looks—their similarities and differences.

Hermione scowled. _I look nothing like him_ , she thought to herself. Blaise seemed to read her mind and snorted, before his gaze landed on their observer with narrowed eyes.

"I'm sure the both of you have the lockets? There is no way you could've gotten into the manor with it."

Hermione instinctively reached up to touch hers and nodded.

"Great. That means you read the letter that came with it?"

Again they both nodded.

"So, you both know and understand that…" He sighed heavily and Hermione hoped he wouldn't say what she thought he was going to say. But the wizard squared his shudders and looked them in the eye. "T-that I'm your father? Your biological father."

Hermione clenched her fist the second the words came out his mouth, itching towards her wand. Blaise caught her eye and shook his head. Once again giving her the 'you have to calm down and promise to control yourself' look.

But of course Hermione ignored him. She was too focused on the words that came out Cantrell's mouth. Almost sixteen years had gone by and he dare to call himself their _father_? _That_ was the first thing he wanted to say to them after all that time? After everything that happened? After knowing perfectly well that her real father died only days ago?

"You are not my father." She declared quietly but in a strong voice, completely ignoring the wizard beside her and met Cantrell's gaze. She saw his hurt, but did not care. Not right now, not anymore.

"You are not my father, Mr. Cantrell. My _real father_ died about four days ago. But I'm sure that isn't news to you?"

"Isabelle don't-"

"My name is not Isabelle. It's Hermione! Hermione Granger!" She felt a headache coming on, a familiar feeling that she remembered having after she caught sight of the Dark Mark on Blaise's arm.

Blaise's hand reached out to grab her and she easily slipped it out of his grasp. She ignored his hesitant attempts sat calming her down. She ignored the guilt she felt in the pit of her stomach when she looked at the hurt, pain and sadness in the eyes of the elder wizard across from her.

Hermione ignored it all because at the moment she wanted to be selfish. She didn't want to be rational, she wanted to be _free._ She wanted to unleash every angry thought—it bubbled up inside of her and threatened to burst with every second that passed. And now, she didn't want to hold it in. She allowed it to burst and fuel her cold veins.

"I don't blame you but I know some way, somehow you could have stopped it! I am not stupid. The timing of everything-Blaise's parents, my parents, the manor, the lockets! Even your damn house elf!" She yelled. "You could have prevented their deaths. You could have come to us, you could have offered some kind of protection. But you didn't! You stayed locked up in your hideout like you have for the last sixteen years! You decided to be a _coward_! And because of you, my _father_ would still be alive if you would've warned the Order, or even the ministry. I would be with them and I would be _happy_! We would be talking about school and eating dinner and telling jokes. Merlin! I – I would b-be…" The anger left her body in a rush. Her tears were building up and she was suddenly exhausted, unable to hold them in any longer. Hermione hid her face in her hands and her silent tears came down her cheeks.

She couldn't do this...

She felt Blaise's hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione calm down, your shaking." Blaise whispered. She listened to his words and tried to get herself to relax.

"Blaise." Hermione whispered quietly. "I can't do this now. I – I … I need some rest." He looked at her carefully then nodded. Hermione chanced a glance at the older wizard but he wasn't looking at them, instead he stared intently at the floor.

Blaise let her go and followed her out the door. They walked silently through the halls. Hermione didn't pay attention to where they were going, her mind was blank and all she wanted was a bed to lay on. Hopefully she could sleep until the world she knew was back in order. Where she had friends and she was just plain old Hermione Granger who knew nothing about the Cantrell's.

Blaise brought her to a small room that contained a bed and a seat next to a big window on the opposite side.

"Cantrell said he fixed it up for you while you were… You know." He stood at her door awkwardly. "My room is right across if you need anything...okay?" Hermione nodded. She expected him to leave but he just stood there. He was acting the same way he did before they entered the library. Hermione watched him and then soon enough he reached up to scratch the back of his neck; a nervous tick.

"Well I-" He stopped then shook his head. "I'll tell you in the morning. But get some sleep, okay?" And rushed out the room.

After tossing and turning for two hours, Hermione gave up on trying to sleep. When she closed her eyes she saw her parents and when she opened them she saw Alexandros' distraught face.

Hermione felt guilty. Their earlier encounter was his first time seeing his children together in almost sixteen years. When she thought of how she reacted, she almost felt ashamed. She wished she listened to Blaise and postponed tonight's first encounter with Cantrell because all she saw now was a girl who just lost her parents and took it out on the first vulnerable person she saw. And she attacked him—she purposely hurt him.

Hermione sat up on her bed. For the second time that day, her thoughts went back to the Dark Mark in their foyer and the blood streaks on the wall. Then they skipped to the physically strong, mentally fragile man and emotionally devastated man she met just hours ago. Sixteen years. No words. No contact with her or Blaise or the Wizarding World. Nothing.

_What happened?_

There were so many missing pieces in the Cantrell's story—Voldemort's need for them, Mya, the letter, her parents—and she just verbally attacked the only man who could explain it all.

Maybe…she should try it again. Maybe…he'll be able to give answers to her questions. Some kind of insight would be great no matter how small. If not she could easily walk off, or read a couple books to get her mind off of things.

She made up her mind. Dawn was rising as she walked down the hall, where she found the doors to the library once again. The witch quietly crept inside and glanced around for the elder wizard. The lights were out, but her wand was lit up and she found him sleeping in the same seat she left him in.

Hermione slowly stepped up to wake him but instead she found herself looking at his face. Now, that she was up close to him, she saw found physical similarities. His nose was what stood up to her the most; same curves and size as her own. Her hair the same shade of brown, his ears, the form of his cheeks… Proof that she was, in fact, his daughter stared her in the face, almost mockingly... She was more him then Blaise was. Other than the bright hazel eyes, physically Blaise took entirely after Mya.

She was his daughter and Blaise his son. And now she stood before him regretting her words, after shattering his first moment of being reunited with the pair of twins he helped birth. She had been irrational, thoughtless and malevolent. Her parents would be disappointed.

Hermione took a deep breath, pushed her tears and thoughts of her parents to the back of her head and shook the elder wizard awake.

He jerked up, looking around wildly. Hermione slowly seated herself in front of him and watched silently as he calmed down when he realized it was only her.

"What's the matter? Are you hungry? Of course you're hungry, I'll have-"

She smiled tiredly at his concern. "No…I just came here to apologize for my behavior earlier."

"Oh, don't worry about it. You are angry, hurt and confused. I would've found it odd if you _didn't_ start yelling at me." And he smiled. His smile reminded her of Blaise and rare times that he did smile.

Hermione shook her head, "it was wrong of me…thoughtless. I had no right to accuse you of such…horror." She gulped. "And I am sincerely sorry for lashing out on you. I am not usually this irrational when I am angry… I'm actually very perceptive when under stress but my head isn't in the right place." She admitted quietly.

He surprised her again when he let out a low chuckle. A small laugh mixed with some sort of sadness in it. "Your mother–I mean Mya was similar. Perceptive and rational…unless triggered."

"Was?" Hermione inquired. "Is she not—" She stopped at the looked on his face. His eyes lowered as he pinched them together and his shoulders dropped.

Pain.

Mya didn't survive what ever happened in the manor sixteen years ago.

Was that her blood on the walls?

A horrible feeling came over her—the feeling of emptiness and agony. The feeling of loss that she quickly familiarized herself with.

"I'm sorry." She started. "I thought—when you appeared that…"

Cantrell straightened out, running a hand over his face. His eyes far away. "Not your fault…but no Mya—she's not with us."

Sixteen years and he still could not bring himself to say that his wife was dead.

_What happened?_

"You've stayed here for the last sixteen years?" Hermione said in efforts change the subject. "Not to be rude, but it's in complete disarray."

"No, I haven't. I'm only here because the wards warned me that someone was trying to get into the manor—you brother attempted to apparate inside without the use of the lockets." He explained. "I haven't felt a disturbance in the wards since 1981… I-I usually avoid the manor as much as I can." She should have known. Why would he stay in a place where his wife was murdered?

"Billy—"'

"Adored your moth—Mya, almost as much as I did. To order him to clean off…it would be torture. He stays away from the manor as much as he can. He lives with me."

Hermione smiled—he cared for his elves. "Billy didn't tell you when we arrived at the manor the first time?"

His thick brows furrowed together and as he hesitated, Hermione realized he was debating whether to tell her the truth or to make up a fib.

"Please do not lie to me." She said sternly. His hazel eyes leveled with her and after a minute or two he nodded. No lies.

"I-I never wanted to intrude on a life that you had already build for yourself without us…without me. I gave Billy strict instructions not to tell me if you ever appeared at the manor."

"Then why the mysterious letter?" Hermione quickly interrupted. She didn't want to talk about her parents—the hows and whys could wait until she was…ready to hear it. Quoting the words from the letter she said, "'A lot of things will begin to unfold. Keep your heart, mind and eyes open...' What was that all about?"

Cantrell smiled at the dramatic tone she put on, "Did you know anything about the Cantrell's before the letter?"

Realizing where he was heading she slumped into her seat. "No…Blaise actually knows a lot, though. He…He's had a lot of time on his hands. And the Zabini library at his fingertips."

"We never intended to keep your true identities from you. You were to eventually find out but not this soon. Not…under the circumstances that have brought you here now." Not with the tragic murder of my parents, Hermione thought. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Always." She said quietly, shrieking even further into the sofa chair. She knew what was coming.

"Billy isn't to blame. He is connected to our family by the magic that holds us all together. That locket around your neck," He said, pointing to it. "Holds a large part of that magic. You were desperate to escape and with the locket around your neck, and the Cantrell manor that practically breathes, he felt you. He felt that he was needed so he appeared to you and took you where you asked to go. Home. To the Grangers..." He paused silently asking her if she would like him to continue. She nodded stiffly, masking her emotions and holding her tears. "The letter we left you is supposed to appear to you when the Grangers, or in your brothers case, the Zabini's passed away. We thought, _we hoped_ , that would be when they were old and brittle. Unfortunately…" he didn't finish his sentence and Hermione felt tears come down her cheeks that she quickly wiped away. He looked pained, but she nodded for him to continue. She had to know. "We told them this of course, and they promised not to say a word about us or the letter unless they were on the verge of death."

The creeping feeling of loss and emptiness slowly eased into her again. "S-so—" She choked, as the pain in her chest returned and once again traveled like a cold nerve through the rest of her body. Her heart pounded hard and fast against her chest and suddenly she couldn't breathe. She was suffocating. She tried to control it but all she saw were her parents, stuck in an inferno of fire, not even fighting back because they _knew_ what was to come.

A warm hand tilted her head back and she felt sweet liquid pour down her throat. A Calming Drought. It wasn't long before her the potion seeped into her blood and her breathing even out.

"They were a wonderful and brave couple. I owe them so much for protecting and loving you as much as they did." Cantrell said quietly from his seat beside her.

Hermione took a deep breath. She used her sleeve to wipe her tears, her fingers still trembling underneath.

"Why would they—they couldn't even protect themselves? They couldn't even fight." She finally said after a long silence.

"We would do the impossible—the unthinkable for the people we love, without an explanation." He replied.

 _The unthinkable,_ repeated in her mind and Hermione found herself wondering how he survived the night Mya was killed. "H-how did you—"

"A story for another time." He cut evenly.

She nodded in agreement and let her curiosity go, sinking into silence once again.

The sun began to rise over the horizon when Cantrell spoke again. "I live in a private cottage, far away from here. There is already a room waiting for you. That is if you would like to join us."

How could she refuse when he had that hopeful look on his face?

Hermione thought about it. She had nowhere else to go but the headquarters. There was also the possibility of the Borrow… but they would bombard her with questions that she didn't-wouldn't be able to answer. At least, not yet.

"Us? Zabini has consented?"

"Yes. Nate has already agreed. I would like you to. I have a lot to show you and a lot to explain. I am sure you have questions of your own." It took her a while to understand that by Nate he meant Blaise. She was happy she wasn't the only one he improperly identified and wondered how Blaise reacted to it.

"And two of his friends are also joining us."

She froze. _That_ was what Zabini was trying to tell her before. Prick. "Friends?"

Cantrell watched her carefully. "Yes, he was supposed to inform you of their situations and why they need our assistance. Young Miss Parkinson and Mister Malfoy. They are already at the cottage." Hermione felt bile rise in her throat.

"B-but they're death eaters! You can't house them! If you do, I can't stay there." Hermione shrieked. She stood up and started pacing. The headquarters now seemed like the perfect place to go.

"But so is your brother and you have no problem staying with him."

She grimaced at his words. "But Blaise is different. He-he's-"

"Isabelle, I would never put you in harm's way."

"But Malfoy tried to _kill_ Dumbledore! Just little over a week ago, mind you!" She continued.

"But he didn't. Dumbledore is still alive. Malfoy was given orders by Lord Voldemort to kill Dumbledore. Orders he _defied_. Don't be so narrow-minded."

Hermione felt her jaw drop. Did he just—

"Give him a chance just as you have given me one." He said softly. "Mr. Malfoy personally came to me and asked for my help. I expect you overlook your prejudices, just as I requested of him." He paused and added, with a more stern voice. "I need you to be there. There is a lot to be discussed and a lot to show you."

Hermione almost growled.

Cantrell raised a brow. Almost amused. "I don't see the big issue here. Why are you afraid of them?"

"I'm not!"

"Intimidated?"

"They are Death Eaters-"

"They are not."

"How do you know?"

"I merely asked." He said, as if that was the most obvious answer. "I can easily read people. Trust me."

"I cannot trust someone I barely know." She replied icily. He looked hurt. "I'm sure we can arrange something. I have other places to stay."

"I would prefer you with me." Cantrell said, almost possessively and she didn't like it one bit.

Hermione glared at him, "I would be safe where I am headed."

"Where? The Headquarters?"

"Yes." She said it hesitatingly and gave him a suspicious look. "Do they know about you…?"

"That is what we have to discuss. Now go to bed and think about it. We will make final decisions before we leave later this morning." He said, in a blunt dismissal and she marched right past him without another word.

"Belle." She involuntarily paused and turned to glare at the old wizard. He handed her a thick book entitled, _'History of the Cantrell Elders.'_ "You wanted more information and you will find more than Blaise ever told you if you read in this book." He informed her. Hermione nodded and held the big book tight to her chest. She turned to leave but not before whispering goodnight to the wizard.

Alexandros stood with a small smile on his face as he watched his daughter head off to bed, the book held tightly to her chest.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Seven**

SM <3

* * *

" _Mum can I please go? I'll clean my room everyday if you let me!" Seven year old Hermione Granger begged her Mum. She was currently sitting on a stool in front of the kitchen counter; her bottom lip jutting out. Mrs. Granger looked at her daughter in amusement._

" _Hermione, you already cleaned your room every day. Why can't you just wait for your dad to come home?" Hermione pouted some more and stood off the stool. She took her Mum's hand, sat her down in a chair and grabbed her chin so they were on the same level._

" _Mummy I have to go now! This is important to me." Her mom laughed and put the little girl on her lap._

' _Most likely something about books,' Mrs. Granger mused. Hermione looked at her with innocent eyes and that got her in another round of laughter._

" _Why is this so important? Why don't you just stay with your Mum for the day and we could watch that new movie about the mouse detective? How 'bout it love? And when your dad comes home we could all have a picnic in the park?" Hermione put her arms around her neck and after a minute of thinking the little brunette nodded._

_"Okay, but can I have a cookie while watching the movie?" Hermione smiled sweetly. Her mom frowned._

" _Only one. You know those things aren't good for your teeth."_

_Hermione grinned, "I love you mummy!"_

" _I love you too, doll. Now, go pick out some new flowers for your mum's new vase. I'll be out in a bit." Hermione jumped off her mom and walked out the back door into their yard._

_The yard was her favorite place about the house and she quickly skipped to the flower her Mum just planted for her; a bundles of pink carnations. She gently picked the tallest one out. "Mum, I found the perfect-"_

_She turned around and her rose abruptly fell to the ground. Her home was gone. The bright yellow color was replaced with an angry black burnt wood. The glass door was shattered and as she walked passed it she felt faint pain from the glass through her thick socks. Her eyes got hazy but not due to the smoke filled air._

" _Mum!" Hermione yelled out. Her eyes were wide and tears poured down her cheeks as she looked around the disarray._

_She felt like she was suffocating. Everywhere she looked the fire had left its damage. Her once warm, cozy home was now dark and cold._

_Hermione looked around the cruel mess and fresh tears came to her eyes and fell down to her cheeks._

" _M-Mum w-where are you?" She yelled again. She walked around what was left of the furniture, not trusting herself to touch anything. With quiet, cautious steps Hermione walked into the living room, and her eyes widen to find her mom's lifeless body lying on the ground. She ran over and put her Mum's head in her lap, smoothing her hair off her face._

" _W-wake up Mum." She softly touched her face and tried to get the muck off._ " _Please wake up mum. We have to see the m-movie. We have to wait for dad. Mum wake u-up." When her mother didn't response to her touches, she desperately began to shake her. Her tears completely blurring her vision._ " _Wake up Mum and I will stay with you forever. I'll clean my room three times a day and I won't eat any cookies! Mum please w-wake up!" She tried taking off the muck from her face again but her hands come up with blood. Hermione screamed and her Mum's eyes were suddenly open; wide and lifeless. They weren't the comforting brown but an icy gray. Almost white. Her gaze cut right through her and for a minute all she felt was the loud thud of her heart against her chest._

_Was this real? This couldn't be real._

" _How could you leave us?" The lifeless body whispered hoarsely._

_Hermione began to sob loudly and hid her face in her hands,"M-m-mum you t-told me to, I-I had t-to..."_

" _No! You should have been here to protect us! We died because of you…" She felt her heart stopped and she suddenly couldn't breathe. Then there was pain. Agonizing pain. She was choking up and her tears wouldn't stop. She_ should _have stayed…_

_The lifeless body before her slowly disappeared and no matter how many times she tried to hang on to it, it was gone._

" _Mum! Mum! Mum!" She screamed. And just like her mother's body, her surroundings began to fade to black until she was left sitting alone in the dark. Hermione hugged her knees to her chest and cried. The emptiness gripped at her chest and her mind. She felt helpless. She_ was _helpless._

_It was all her fault._

_It was all her fault..._

* * *

"Hermione! Hermione wake up." A soft voice whispered. She groaned and moved away from it. She slowly opened her eyes and only saw the glow of the bright sun. She searched for her wand but her body screamed in protest. She hardly sleep since her nightmares made it nearly impossible. They were back after back and each one more frightening then the one prior. Hermione somehow managed to pull her covers over her head-she could only imagine what her face currently looked like.

"Hermione, come on. We only have an hour before this place locks up and no one can come in or out." Blaise's voice said from beside her. The bed sunk as he took a seat on the edge. ""How'd you do without me? I didn't see any bruises on his face so at least I know you didn't punch him."

She cleared her throat before speaking but her voice still came out hoarse. "It went alight…He not as bad as I thought he was going to be." She admitted.

"Makes it hard to hate him, doesn't it?" Blaise said quietly. "I spoke to him this morning…I told him about the mark…about who I am."

"He already knew." Cantrell mentioned it casually last night and she figured Blaise already told him—looks like he figured it out on his own.

There was a beat of silence.

"I guessed that…he didn't look very surprised when I told him. He didn't look much of anything really, just tried to be understanding." He shifted, moving further back in his seat. "He says he'll help me, once we get to the cottage. I have to perfect my occlumency."

"Will your two friends be a part of this class, too?"

Another beat of silence, this time there was a bit of tension present.

"Andy told me he... I was going to tell you." He finally said.

"It's _Andy_ now?"

"Comes out easier than bloody _Alexandros_."

Hermione sank deeper into her bed. "You should have told me before he did."

"I was going to tell you today–"

"An hour before I go over there Blaise? I've only had last night to prepare myself for today."

He jolted off the bed and she could practically feel his wide eyes on her. "Does that mean you're coming with us?"

She lowered her covers slightly, but still faced away from him. "Yes. I have no choice. I can't keep popping in and out of Harry's house. People would ask questions that I wouldn't be able to answer." She whispered.

"Cantrell was worried you wouldn't come."

"Once he explains everything to us…to me, I'm out of there." The last thing she wanted to do was build a relationship with Cantrell...with either of them, actually. She didn't want to get comfortable. She didn't want to make friends. Most importantly, she didn't want him to try and replace her dad.

Sure, Alexandros wasn't the person she expected him to be—an angry bitter man plagued by loneliness and loss. She wished he was because, as Blaise said, it would be easier to dislike him. Despite being annoyingly commanding, he was pleasant and she knew he had a lot to show her.

Her rush to leave was also motivated by the possibility that she would start caring about him more than she wanted to. The thought alone scared her. So, she told herself that after he told them whatever he intended, she would leave and stay with Harry in Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer.

But her curiosity and love for knowledge would get the best of her. She could only imagine the spells and collections of history books he had in his library; the endless books told from the perspective of his ancient family; the power, the knowledge and the inner workings of the Wizengamot. These were all interest that could keep her in the cottage. Her unyielding curiosity and yearn to learn was her weakness.

"Pansy's not going to bother you. Draco said he would stay out of sight."

"I don't need anyone locked up in a room. I could take care of myself. Draco Malfoy doesn't scare me." She said sternly.

"It's not that Hermione. They just want to make sure they don't start trouble when I'm…in a meeting. And Cantrell _is_ doing them a favor-"

"Why are they staying with you Blaise?" Hermione interrupted. He didn't say anything so she continued. "Don't they have a home or money that they could rent a place with? Isn't Cantrell's identity supposed to be a secret? Why would he allow Malfoy to know about him?"

Blaise sighed deeply and moved further back on the bed to a more comfortable position. "For one, Pansy Parkinson has no home or money. I was the only one that could helped her."

"What do you mean? The Parkinson's have enough money to last them a lifetime."

Blaise took a moment to answer. "She was disowned."

It was certainly the last thing she expected him to say. "What? How?"

"Her mum got sick about a year ago. Her father became controlling. He knew it wouldn't be long before he was on his death bed. He pressured her to join the Dark Lord, so it would keep their names out of harm. Purebloods that hadn't joined the Dark Lord yet, are increasingly being 'persuaded' to join his ranks.

"Pansy didn't want any of it. She knew what she had to do to join the ranks of death eaters and didn't want to go through with it. After she came home from Hogwarts her father brought up the news that she was to wed on August fifteenth. She just snapped. Told him she wouldn't go through with anything. She went up to her room, packed her clothes and before she left, he told her she would be disowned if she took another step…and she walked out."

"And she went to find _you_?"

"Don't sound so surprised. Pansy's my best mate under wraps. Not all of us can walk around all buddy-buddy like you Gryffindorks."

Hermione quickly faced him, suddenly angry. His cringe didn't go unnoticed but Hermione chose to ignore it. He looked a lot more different in the morning sunlight—more human and kinder. Although the dark hue underneath his eyes showed that he was probably getting just as much sleep as she was. His bright hazel eyes shimmered in the light as they scanned over her face, concern stitched on his face.

"You're making it sound like you have it harder than everyone else." She accused.

"Some _are_ as bad Hermione! We don't get a choice in much. If I did I wouldn't have this thing marking my skin!" He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the dark mark. As if on instinct she moved away, sat up and drew her knees to her chest. "Pansy made the best decision of her life walking away from this."

"Your parents forced you?" She asked quietly. He nodded sadly with his gaze still on his arm.

"When _he_ told them to bring me in … they couldn't refuse." He frowned and pulled down his sleeve. "I don't want to talk about it."

After a moments silence, he said. "I heard you, in your sleep."

"I don't want to talk about it." She mumbled.

"Then we won't talk." She lifted her head and he shrugged. "I'm not going to pressure you. It's your business if you want to tell me or not."

He stood up to leave but Hermione stopped him.

"You never told me why Malfoy is there." He turned to her again but shook his head. "He was also here a few days before, when you came back from your 'meeting'. I heard the two of you."

"He was honestly here as back up, you terrify me Granger." He joked and she attempted to give him a small smile. "And the rest … I can't say. He hasn't even told _me_ the whole story yet. I know as much as you do; he defied the Dark Lord." He paused, debating his words. "But just know that he's going through a hard time now-"

"Remind him that he isn't the only one. I've lost the two people that I loved the most in my life Blaise. If anything I'm sure he had something to do with it-" Hermione stopped Blaise started to shake his head.

"Draco didn't do that to your family Hermione. You know he didn't, he couldn't." He turned to leave but once he opened the door she stopped him again.

"D-do you know who did it?" She said quietly, hardly above a whisper.

She thought he didn't hear her until then he answered her just as quietly, "I don't know. The Dark Lord gave that mission to his inner group. But what would you do if you knew who it was? I think its best you don't know or go looking for an answer Hermione. You'll only hurt more." Then he closed the door.

Hermione laid back down on her bed and looked up at the white ceiling.

Blaise was right. If she knew who murdered her parents she was sure she would go looking for them. But when she did, what would she do then? Did she have enough hate in her to actually kill someone to avenge them? She curled up into a ball, her brain on overdrive.

She missed them so much it hurt. Her nightmares made it so much harder for her. Every time she closed her eyes she saw her mum's cold eyes staring up at her, telling her it was her fault…

She debated staying in bed, getting locked up in the manor and never coming out. But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, there was a knock on her door.

"Belle, the new wards are going up in five minutes. Are you ready?" Hermione quickly put on concealment charm on her face, grabbed her book and took three deep breaths before opening the door.

Cantrell greeted her with a wary smile. "Good morning. Nate said you would be joining us to the cottage."

She nodded and followed him down the hall. "I am only staying until-"

"I know. I am just glad that you are accompanying us."

They entered the library and she made a move to put the book back but Cantrell stopped her.

"No, you can keep it. I have already taken your brother-" She made a face, _brother_. "…To the cottage and this place is going to lock up any moment now, so let's go." He reached out for her hand and she held on to it hesitantly and instantly felt the familiar tug in her naval.

When her feet landed on solid ground, Hermione looked up to find a small, dark red cottage. There were short thick trees opposite each other creating a shade, and hundreds of colorful flowers leading up to the short entrance. They slowly walked up the path and Hermione turned around to see that they were on a hill and the only other homes were miles away, the sun slowing rising over the horizon.

Beautiful.

"Here we are. You'll feel a warm flash when you pass through the door, but don't worry. It's the spells; you're new to the house." He opened the door and as she walked through she felt it; a dryness made her dizzy. But just as the feeling came, it was gone.

The first thing she saw was an old staircase that lead to the second floor. The common room was just to her left and she looked in it to find a moderately spacious room with two couches and a coffee table. Everything was much smaller compared to the manor, but she automatically liked the cottage better. There was a sense of life and color in the cottage as compared to the Cantrell Manor which was empty, abandoned and grief seemed to be an inescapable feeling.

"You like it? It's smaller than the manor, took me a long while to get use to the space but-"

Hermione smiled tiredly at him, "No. I like it."

"Perfect. Nate is already here and probably sleeping so let me show you to your room." He motioned her up the stairs and opened the first door in the short hallway. It was decorated classically; bed, bureau, bedside table and a lamp. The walls were a deep scarlet color and very Gryffindor—it comforted her. The witch took a seat on the bed and looked up at Cantrell, who stood at her doorway.

"It's still early in the morning and I am sure you're tired. I'll wake you up in a few hours." Alexandros said. She nodded and he continued to stand at the door, a bit awkwardly.

"If there's anything you need, I am on the first floor-"

"Do you have any Dreamless Sleep Potion?" Hermione asked quickly. She watched as his eyes widened slightly, and the same look of concern that she saw on Blaise only a couple minutes earlier, grew over his face.

"I do, but the Dreamless Sleep Potion is highly add-"

"Addictive, I know. I'll be carefully. I just-" She stopped, lowering her head and suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "I just really need to sleep. I don't want to remember, or think, or see... I just want to sleep."

Cantrell simply nodded, and with a flick of his wand a small vial appeared on her bedside table.

"Thank you." She whispered. He simply nodded, wished her a good night and closed the door behind him.

Hermione switched into some night clothes. She stared at the potion vial for about three minutes in contemplation before making up her mind, unscrewing the top and empting it into her throat. She then lay under her covers and let sleep take over her mind.

* * *

"They're really sleeping!" Blaise laughed and stuffed a biscuit in his mouth. Hermione rolled her eyes and glanced back to the door entrance, expecting two unwanted faces to show up at any minute.

"They are not hiding Hermione. I informed them of what you told me!"

"Then why aren't they down here?"

"For the fifth time, they're sleeping."

She didn't believe him. Of course she didn't believe him, no matter what trick he played with his eyes, she didn't believe him. How could they sleep until one in the afternoon? Hermione bit her lip anxiously.

She woke up about an hour ago and took a walk around the cottage. The spells only let you go one mile away from the cottage and in order to leave you would have to ask for Alexandros' permission.

She found him the yard, tending to the garden; two white carnations stood proudly in of sea of red and pink ones. He was dressed in muggle clothing; dark blue jeans and a grey short sleeve. How he could be dressed so causally yet still have an air of regality? She had no idea.

"Mya planted this one for you right after you were born." He said pointing to the white carnations as she approached. Not knowing what to say, she smiled

"She said it fit you, that you were so pure… that the evils in this world wouldn't stop your love and care for others." he continued.

"How would she know that?"

Cantrell chuckled and stood back up. "That was one of her little secrets. But she was right wasn't she-just forgot brave."

"You loved her a lot, didn't you?"

"Still do. I think about her every day. She was my guide, my only family before the two of you were born. But Voldemort…" He stood up and faced her. For the first time since Hermione meet him she pitied the mysterious man before her. The pain he held in his eyes when he talked about his wife was so very chilling...

"You look hungry. Why don't you go eat?"

He had followed her inside but when Blaise came down, he left to go check on something upstairs. It was obvious they didn't want her to be alone. They probably thought she would find a way to escape.

"Would you stop staring at the door?" Blaise asked, clearly irritated.

"Sorry for being slightly nervous at the fact that my enemies living in the same house as me!"

"You are the one that said to tell them they had no reason-"

"I'm going outside." She lied. Hermione stood up from her seat and left the room. She ran up the stairs in search for the small library Alexandros said he had. As she walked in she heard low mummers and internally groaned.

_So Blaise did lie._

"Pans, there is nothing on it inside here!" The deep voice of Draco Malfoy met her ears. The smart thing to do was for her to do would be to walk back out but she didn't. Hermione closed the door behind her and the murmuring came to a stop. Tall bookshelves covered her view from the pair but she knew they were behind it.

"Blaise?" Parkinson called out. Hermione snorted, _weren't they in for a surprise_. She heard their low whispers as she walked through the shelves then a big thud.

As she turned a corner, they both looked up at her. Books and paper were all over the floor and Parkinson sat right in the middle of it all. Her black hair was in a messy mop atop of her head and her eyes were puffy and red, probably from crying. It was the first time Hermione ever saw her so unguarded.

"What are you doing here Granger?" The question came from Malfoy. He looked crisp and clean next to the wreck of a witch next to him. No hair out of place. Black slacks, shoes and a collared button-down. But it wasn't tucked in.

 _His only imperfection._ She rolled her eyes.

"Obviously I came to read. Isn't that why people go to a library?" She remarked calmly. Malfoy frowned a little.

He was looking for it. A broken, lifeless and utterly lost Granger. He expected her to be at her worst. To be in her room crying, all day. His eyes almost begged for it. The last thing he expected was her confronting him in the library.

Silence followed her comment. Pansy caught her eye then looked back down. She gathered her books and then stood up.

"We were just leaving." She said and then stacked three books on top of each other and made her way toward the door.

Maybe the air of discouragement made her do it, or maybe it was because she had the same look on her face that Hermione was trying so hard to conceal. Or maybe it was because Pansy was a visual representation of how she felt emotionally.

Whatever the reason may be, Hermione found herself lifting a hand up to stop Pansy as she approached her and uttered just a couple words became the start of their friendship. A small and simple truce: "Blaise is in the kitchen if you're looking for him."

Pansy nodded stiffly but the look that she gave Hermione was full of gratitude. She walked out the room and only turned back once to tell Malfoy to meet her in a few.

"So it's Blaise now?" drawled Malfoy. He leaned off the shelf and made his way to sit on one of the two the loveseats in the small space. She gripped the wand in her pocket.

"Do not speak to me, Malfoy."

"I have the right to do as I please don't I? Well, that is what that kind man Cantrell told-"

"Shut up." The blonde in front of her just smirked and raised his hands.

"Did I say something wrong Granger?" He stood up and stood less than a foot away from her. Something told her whatever was about to come out of his mouth will only end badly. She tightened her hold on her wand.

"You know I heard about it. It's was over the prophet. 'Hermione Granger's parents found dead.' And everyone is wondering where you are. Most of the think you died. The death eaters took you. But others, like Potter, still believe you're alive." He said quietly, barely a whisper and she found herself taking a step back, grabbing her chest at the mention of her parents. She didn't want to hear this, much less from him.

He smirked.

"And yet, here you are... sharing a home…with me." He paused. "Instead of the company of your friends...it's almost comical, you know, the irony? Don't you think?" He didn't give her a chance to respond, a malicious glint in his eye. "I mean, you've always been there for them-both Potter and the Weasel-when they needed you most. Yet here you are _alone_ after what was the most catastrophic event in your life. After losing your mother and father."

' _Not now Granger. Not when he's here.'_ Hermione shot him a glare in an attempt to cover her the tears gathering behind her eyes.

"But I'm not alone am I?" She said with a strength she didn't know she had. " _I mean_ ," she sneered, mocking him. "As you said, _Andy_ is such a kind man. I may have lost my father but he was just so quick to open his arms to me-his heir, his daughter, his little girl." It pained her to say those words but the look of uncertainty that crossed Malfoy's face made it worth it.

"I would be very careful with how you speak to the daughter of a man who would do anything for his child." She finished tersely.

Malfoy gritted his teeth and flushed red in anger. "Is that a threat?" He growled through clenched teeth.

She grinned, "Threat? No that sounds too harsh...Consider this a warning."

And just like that, she had him. Malfoy had no choice but to walk away, angrily marching right past her.

* * *

Blaise leaned against the opposite wall of the library with a small frown on his face. His foot had been tapping on the ground for the last two minutes after coming in without a word and begging for attention.

 _Tap, tap,_ and _tap_.

Hermione slammed her book shut and looked up at him in annoyance. "What do you want?"

He looked up and his frown deepened. His eyes dark green. "I-I want to talk to you. You know, try that bonding thing."

Hermione sighed but nodded all the same. The 'bonding thing' was something she was forced to agree to earlier that afternoon during lunch. Blaise thinks it's a good way of getting to know each other better, while Cantrell likes the idea because he thinks it'll help the transition of their magic. So Hermione was outnumbered and grudgingly agreed so long as Blaise didn't refer to it as 'Sibro Time.'

"I just came out of a meeting with Cantrell and he just told me…" He chuckled awkwardly, "He answered a lot of questions, for the first time."

Finally. Progress.

"What did you ask? What did he say?"

Blaise crackled a small smile and sat at the end of the sofa, rubbing the back of his neck. Hermione noted that he only did that when he's nervous, or confused and at the moment he looked a bit of both.

"Have you wondered why you were placed with muggles and I with pure-bloods?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, of course." If her parents were muggleborns and the Cantrell's wanted safety for their children why put their only son with pureblooded Death Eaters?

"I was angry, you know, when I put the pieces together. And the 'what ifs' don't help at all. What if I was raised by muggles? What if I didn't have this mark on my arm?" He rubbed his forearm and Hermione wished for him not to pull his sleeve up. The nasty mark was in her nightmares.

"So what did he say?"

"He said it was neither his nor Mya's decision. They were against it. He was going to put me with a family similar to your pare—own." He was quickly catching her habits, likes and dislikes. The trigger words like 'parents' that made her heart drop and her body flinch. Similarly, she was catching on to his. "The non-assuming muggles who lived a regular life in an ordinary town somewhere in England. But then Dumbledore was queued into the decision. Cantrell said they were doing a lot of work with the Order so-"

"Wait, Dumbledore?" Hermione sat up straighter. There is no way Dumbledore could've known? Why would he keep something so big from her?

"Yes Dumbledore! The same prehistoric man that is our headmaster! He was the one that suggested for us to be sent away and the Cantrell's choose to leave us in the care of muggles that way we wouldn't grow up around any magic. They thought we'll be safer that way, which proved to be true. Your life didn't really turn into life or death situations until you got to Hogwarts." Hermione snorted. That was true. "Mya's family didn't trust Dumbledore, as most Pure-blood families don't. But Andy did. They stayed in a safe house that Dumbledore found for them while they looked for a pair of muggle couples. Cantrell said Dumbledore tried very hard to convince them to leave me with a pure-blood family and he did just that the night they went and dropped you off."

"He—he just took you? He kidnapped you?" Hermione stuttered in disbelief. With each word, she fell deeper into the green loveseat. Dumbledore knew everything and didn't tell her. He knew she was a Cantrell, so he knew the Grangers were in far more danger then she would have ever imagined; not only was she Harry Potter's best friend, but the Grangers were the muggle parents of an heir to an Ancient and Noble Family! He should have protected them and secured some kind of ward! A secret keeper, anything!

"Dumbledore knew?" Hermione whispered, still not believing anything that came out of his mouth.

"Yes he did Hermione! Andy was furious. The Zabini's were not exactly in the inner circle of the Dark Lord, but Mya knew well enough that they were followers. Dumbledore left my parents a letter stating that I was a pureblood baby whose parents died in the hands of the Order." Then Blaise laughed without humor. "My mother wasn't stupid though. She knew whose son I was the moment I was put in her arms..."

"And she didn't tell a soul." Hermione finished for him in a quiet whisper.

"You know, sometimes I doubt…" He trailed off again and the pain that comes with loss overcame his face and into his voice. "She really loved me."

She wanted to hug him then, but they weren't there yet. Instead she threw him a sad smile that said what she wished to say in words.

They remained silent for a couple minutes, both reflecting on a past life.

"The Cantrell's never found out where Dumbledore took me." Blaise continued. "Just two days after they were attacked in their home and the world knew them as dead."

Hermione sat back silently. There were so many thoughts were running through her head. It wasn't until Blaise looked at her in similar way that Cantrell did just yesterday. As if he knew something that would cause her pain but didn't want to say it…

Hermione felt a familiar pain start in her chest, as it all clicked. Dumbledore knew what was guaranteed to happen if the Grangers and Zabini's died…he would have the brightest witch at Hogwarts vengeful and willing to do anything for those she love, a death eater that could easily be turned into a spy and—the pain in her chest tightened around her, almost suffocating her. "Do-Does Dumbledore know that Alexandros is alive?"

Again, Blaise's dark eyes answered her question before he even said a word. "Cantrell said Dumbledore ceased all search for you and ensured the Order that you will be back home soon."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Eight**

SM <3

* * *

"Granger, can you pass me the potatoes?" Hermione looked up at the witch across from her and obliged, earning a quick 'thank you' from Pansy. Those were among the few words mentioned. The others were; 'Can you pass me the...', and a 'You're welcome'. It was both awkward and inescapable—they both entered the dining room at the same time and because they were both too prideful to turn back around, they found themselves stuck having lunch together.

The witches lapsed into another awkward silence, with no one there to get them out of it. Blaise had left to one of his meetings. About two days ago, he sat down and explained that meetings were different from summoning's. They were only summoned when Voldemort was upset or, in rare occasions, uncharacteristically happy. Summoning's didn't happen often which was why she found him bent over in pain back at the manor about a week ago. When she asked what it felt like he just shrugged it off, saying 'it hurts like a bitch.' Luckily he hadn't been summoned since that time, but Hermione had to admit that she was becoming increasingly worried about him. He was doing horrid in Cantrell's occlumency lessons. But, he was trying and that was all that mattered at the moment.

The last week felt like Pansy and Hermione were the only ones in the cottage. Malfoy was out, and as usual only told Cantrell where he was going. Blaise had his meetings, and Alexandros was usually in his private office.

Hermione was _so_ bored. All she was doing was reading pointless books, albeit some were interesting and about the Cantrell's but after a while even that got tiresome. She began to feel entirely useless. Cantrell still hadn't _'found the time'_ to tell her why she was there, but Hermione thought and hoped, it would be soon. She didn't know how much longer she could keep herself locked in her room.

Parkinson coughed and Hermione turned her attention back to her dinner. Maybe she was waiting for her to bring up a conversation; she was believed to be the brave one wasn't she? With her mind made up, Hermione put down her fork and Pansy quickly looked up.

"I've realized that I am the only one that does nothing in this house." Hermione said. The other witch just shrugged. Hermione sighed, _here goes nothing_. "I would like to help you, with your research Parkinson."

Pansy raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Hermione took the opportunity to explain. "Well, since neither Blaise nor Malfoy are present, I would like to help. I am good at researching; I've practically been doing it all my life." It wasn't that she wanted to help the Slytherin but she was doing it for herself. Her parents' death was still a painful thought and she was tired of crying. Hermione _needed_ something to occupy her mind—something that that wasn't related to them at all.

"Do you know what I'm searching for Granger?" Pansy's voice sounded different. Now it seemed to lack smugness and hostility.

Hermione nodded slowly.

Pansy's eyes narrowed.

"How?" She spoke to soon.

"I overheard your conversation with Cantrell earlier."

"That wasn't your business Granger."

Hermione merely shrugged. "Next time don't speak so loud."

Parkinson laughed and looked back down to her plate. "There is something else you're not saying."

"Well-"

"Blaise was the one that told you." Hermione was slightly surprised; throughout all her years at Hogwarts she always thought Parkinson wasn't capable of creating a full sentence and here she was, understanding Hermione without her having said a word.

"Yes he did."

The other witch sighed exhaustedly. "You were bound to find out anyway."

They lapsed into another silence.

"You're trying to find a way to get your name and assets back, without your father's knowledge?" Hermione asked quietly.

Pansy put her fork down and nodded slowly.

"Yes…" She said hesitantly. "But it is harder when I'm still a minor. I am going to turn seventeen on August fifteenth and that's when I'll have the power to actually _do_ something about it all. My father is not just going to leave his money to spoil."

"So you're going back on your birthday? All you want is the manor and the money?"

Pansy shook her head. "I also want my name. If I want to take over the company it would be even harder…Actually it is my mother's company. Father's money would have already disappeared if my mother hadn't married him. I'm afraid that if I leave it to him he would also bring it to shambles."

Hermione leaned back in her seat. There was more to Pansy Parkinson then she expected. She had a brain hiding under her long, black hair. She wanted everything under her ruling; a bit greedy but she was entitled to it all-she just wanted to take back what was rightfully hers.

"Did he really try to marry you off?" Hermione asked quietly. Parkinson tensed up but nodded.

"Yes he did." A silence fell over them once again. With a creek the kitchen door opened and out came Cantrell.

Pansy frowned.

"With all due respect sir, but-"

"Please Pansy, there is no need to be so formal with me. Just call me Andy." He said and Pansy smiled courteously.

He took a seat at the head of the table, perfectly at ease. Hermione just watched him.

"As you were saying?"

"Right. Aren't you supposed to be upstairs looking over books?"

He reached for a biscuit. "Yes but I deserve a break don't I?"

Pansy blushed and nodded.

Cantrell turned his attention to Hermione. She felt like every time he looked at her he was seeing her for the first time. "Belle… are you okay?" Hermione tensed just as she always did when he called her that. She didn't even bother correcting him. She spent all week doing so and it proved useless.

"Yes I'm fine."

"Do you know when Blaise or Draco would be back?" Pansy asked, saving them from an argument.

"I'm not sure. Draco never said how long he would be, but he'll be back, don't you worry. Nate should be back anytime now." She nodded and Hermione turned her attention to the window where they all could see whoever would arrive. The other two started a conversation about the food and Hermione felt like leaving.

Parkinson talked to Cantrell so naturally. Something Hermione couldn't say about her relationship with her biological father. She glanced at the other witch. Pansy looked calm and collected; as if she wasn't talking to a man known to be dead for the last sixteen years. A little voice in the back of her head reminded her that Pansy Parkinson wasn't the girl who had a life changing secret kept from her.

Hermione's frown turned into a grimaced. For a second she had forgotten what she was actually at the cottage for.

"…You can stay and relax for a little. I'll just go up to the library." The brunette turned her attention back to the pair. Pansy had stood up and Cantrell nodded his head before taking a bit out of his apple.

"I'll come by later to help."

She pushed her chair in and walked to the doorway. Hermione sat rooted in her seat, glaring after her. She had actually thought that –

"Oh! Hermione... Would you like to help me? I hear you're good at research." Pansy stood at the door with a small smirk on her face. Hermione smiled gratefully and nodded.

"Excuse me." She said to Cantrell before running out of her seat and out the door.

* * *

"You can't just get it automatically when you turn of age?" Hermione asked Pansy. She was standing by the first shelves of books looking at each of the titles. Her hair was pulled back only by a headband and she was in comfortable sweats; she was full on bookworm Granger mode. Pansy was sitting on the big seat, her long hair up in a bun and a book resting on her lap.

She stopped reading and looked up, "No, I need magical authorization and all that."

Hermione sighed and pulled out a book titled, 'Historical Ministry Cases.' She sat and read it until a curious thought came to her mind.

"Pansy, aren't you going to be given everything if your dad... you know dies?"

Pansy merely raised an eyebrow. "Granger has something gotten into your head? He will most defiantly leave a will."

Hermione almost blushed; how could she forget?

"He'll probably leave everything to an ungrateful bastard that is in some way related to me. But that's beside the point. I want to get and be in charge of everything _before_ he passes away. I don't want to have issues with the ministry."

Hermione repeated her words in her head, "How are you so sure he's going to die? Actually _why_ are you so sure _?_ "

Pansy sighed audibly, closed her books and crossed her legs under her knees.

"Granger it's not like I want it to happen. I love my parents, don't get me wrong. It's just my dad got too infuriating and I was not going to let him ruin my future with his lousy decisions.

"When my mom got sick I knew from the beginning it was no coincidence. A week before the coughing they went to Voldemort for a meeting then feast. I think someone put something in my mom's drink." She paused.

"The night she died, my dad went to another of _those_ meetings." Her voice got somber. "When he came back that's when everything started. I think Voldemort gave him the same poison and said he would only give him the antidote if he brings me in."

Hermione nodded then looked back down at her book. Her brain slowly processed everything. Voldemort had poisoned the Parkinson's so she would join the league of death eaters. He must be keeping an eye on Pansy's father, to know the progress and all other sorts. _If_ most of the Wizarding World knew Pansy was disowned, the information should've reached him already and he must have reacted to the news…

The only possible solution was out of the question. If she brought her case to the ministry, undoubtedly Voldemort had spies there and he would make sure she lost. In addition to that, she would be in danger of getting kidnapped or even murdered—and if she were captured, they would be too.

"Pansy, Voldemort must know about your disappearance from your home wouldn't he?"

The black-haired witch nodded slowly.

"So wouldn't Voldemort have acted against your dad because he wasn't getting his job done-?"

"Yes, of course he would've. But I know my dad, he isn't stupid. He is binding his time, that's why he asked for a time limit; August fifteenth. That is why I want to do it before. I want to get everything but… I also want to try and save him. I've lost one parent. I don't want to lose the other one-" Pansy stopped in mid-sentence and went back to looking at her book.

She wasn't sure how, or why but the distress that Pansy felt toward the possible death of her father resonated through Hermione. But it hurt like hell. Hermione felt the pain in her chest start again and her breaths started to quicken. She held on the arm of the chair beside her and tried to breathe in deeply. She almost started tearing but then felt Pansy's eyes on her and immediately tried to regain her composure. She was letting _someone_ see her at her most vulnerable. It felt like she exposed to biggest secret she had.

After about three minutes of silence Pansy spoke up.

"I'm sorry, if I caused you any sort of discomfort."

Hermione just nodded. Her eyes were closed and she didn't trust herself to speak. They lapsed into a silence that seemed to go on for hours. She opened her eyes when her breaths normalized.

"C-can I ask you something?" Pansy asked. Hermione inwardly groaned. This is why she locked herself in her room, to avoid pitied looks and questions.

"What happened to you right then?" She asked quietly, no concern in her voice. Just curiosity.

Hermione debated lying, but it would be too obvious. Did she trust her enough to tell her that the thought of her parents brought unbearable pain physically, mentally and emotionally? But...was this actually about trust? Or was pride the reason she kept herself behind closed doors? To uphold the idea that the Invincible Hermione Granger couldn't be knocked down.

Maybe Parkinson was past the superficiality. She trusted her with the information about her dad...maybe all Hermione need was an outlet.

"I don't know how to explain it but after my parent's…death, whenever someone mentions their name or brings anything up relating to death I, like, feel their sadness-their distress. And it does something to my heart, I just … I don't know. I start breathing faster and everything is gone and I...I'm alone." Hermione paused to look at her and thought Pansy was giving her a funny look. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it hurts and it happens often. I can't-"

"No, no Granger. It – I mean I -," She sighed. "I mean to say that when my mom died… I was numb. I spent a week at home, my dad wasn't helping me get over anything and I felt more alone than ever. But I had Blaise and Draco. When I saw them I just started crying and crying, until I had no tears left. I told them how I felt about everything and they just listened...I-I love them because of that. I am not lying when I say I felt like something was lifted off my shoulders and after that day I got better little by little.

"I am not saying you should tell _me_ but tell someone you trust…and tell them soon." She hesitated. "You don't seem to well, from the outside or inside Granger. Everyone in the house is worried about you, especially Andy… and I know you see the worry in his eyes too."

Hermione remained silent. Maybe she did need to talk to someone no matter how much it would hurt her to. Parkinson made good points and she couldn't keep living like how she was, especially with a war that didn't seem like it was ending anytime soon.

"Thank you." She said quietly. Pansy looked at her in confusion.

Hermione tried smiling. "Thank you for stopping me from arguing with Cantrell earlier and - telling me all that. I needed it." She nodded.

"I only know half of what you're going through. ... I can't even imagine how you're feeling."

The two witches stayed in the library for about two more hours, looking over more books and laughing a bit in-between all the research. It was the first time Hermione felt comfortable since she arrived at the cottage, and surprisingly it was with Pansy Parkinson. Never would she have thought that was possible, but what she was quickly learning was that some people weren't what they seem; Pansy and Blaise being prime examples. They continued talking about Pansy's father and her mother's business until Parkinson left to take a nap.

Just as Hermione was cleaning up the mess of books she made, she heard the library doors open. Cantrell came to a stop just as he saw she was there alone packing up books.

"Pansy's not here."

"Looks like it." She replied without missing a beat. She expected him to walk back out but he remained rooted in his spot.

"I'm around if you ever need to talk." He started and Hermione looked at him with suspicious eyes. "I know you must be going through a lot, and everything that is happening now must be taking a toll on you. But Belle-"

"Can you please not call me that?" She managed to say. He then sighed and moved to look out the window. When he didn't answer Hermione chose to speak up again.

"I can't tell you anything Cantrell." She started, looking up at him. He turned to face her with a confused expression. Hermione took a deep breath. "I have been stuck in this house for a week." She continued in a whisper. "I have done nothing but read the same information about your family over and over. How do you expect me to open up to you when I've been here for _days_ and haven't been told anything about the reason I am here nor an explanation as to why or how you are currently _breathing_ before me."

Cantrell stood there for a good minute without a word, then let out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm doing a horrible job, aren't I?"

"At what?"

He glanced at her. "At being a father, your father."

Hermione looked down at her book, saying nothing. That wasn't the point she was trying to make.

"I remember when I first saw you. The first thing that caught my eye was your hair, it was so much for a new born and I instantly thought of my mother. She would always tell me stories about the trouble she had taming my hair as a boy and seeing that same part me passed down to another living thing. My little, living and breathing baby girl with my bush of brown hair on her head." He smiled at her. "I-it's amazing how being a father can change your perspective on everything. And seeing you, all grown up now...it's the greatest magic I've ever seen. "

He paused as and took a seat across from her. "Mya said you were an exact replica of me; the same ears, hair, face. I just thought that you were going to have the same trouble with you hair as I did." Cantrell chuckled. "You may have looked exactly like me but you have Mya's mind, her personality, and her brown eyes. When I first held you, you never cried. You looked up at me with your big brown eyes as if you knew I was dad; that I would never hurt you and nothing can happen to you in my arms. I've loved you...and I still do." He turned his bright hazel eyes on her. "The love I had for you then – and now, is the reason we gave you to the Grangers, `Belle. I couldn't have you, or Nate, be one of those many babies and families being killed just because their parents weren't on the dark side."

His words were soft and honest. Full of nostalgia and love.

Hermione tried to hide the goosebumps that covered her arms as he took a seat on the sofa. Her parents never spoke of her birth or their pregnancy with her and now she understood why; they couldn't speak on things they never experienced.

"Dumbledore had something to do with giving you away. Which I'm sure your brother told you. Do you have any questions about that?"

Hermione sat up straight. It was big progress. The progress she was looking for.

"Why was Dumbledore apart of any arrangement-?" The sentence didn't need completing. He knew what she meant.

"Well-"

"Don't break it down for me I want the whole truth. He only gets involved with situations that are in dire need for him. Special ones like Harry Potter's situation. There's something behind all of this that you're not telling me." She looked at him with accusing eyes and he smiled.

"You know, you're very observant."

Hermione rolled her eyes. He was not going to change the subject. She wouldn't allow him to. "Listen, you said you were going-"

"Yes and I still am-I just didn't expect for you to caught on so quickly." He said in a light laugh.

Hermione lifted her chin, "Many say I am the brightest witch of my year."

Cantrell's smile grew, and his face beamed-he was proud. "So I've been told...But we need Nate in this conversation and I believe he has come back."

"How do you know-" Just as she said that Blaise and Malfoy walked in, their conversation never stopping.

"The spells around the house warn me." Cantrell winked then cleared his throat the get the boys' attention.

Blaise looked at her and smiled tiredly. She hadn't seen him since earlier in the morning and it pleased her to have him back. She returned his smile. As he took a seat beside her she realized something was wrong and looked at him once over. His eyes were a dull brown and red at the edges. The black robes he was wearing looked worn and were ripped at the leg.

Hermione gasped, "Are you okay-?"

"Can I talk to you?" Cantrell quickly interrupted as he also took a count of Blaise's disheveled appearance. The younger wizard nodded, but he closed his eyes for a bit then stood.

"Blaise are you-?"

"I'm fine." He gave her a reassuring grin.

"We'll be back in a minute." Cantrell said to her. She nodded and he walked back out with the younger wizard following.

"He's okay; it was just a practice run." Malfoy stated. He looked clean and unhurt compared to Blaise. Hermione merely nodded

"He cares about you."

Hermione said nothing. The last time they talked she almost broke down and it was not happening again. Ever.

He glowered at her. "You're his sister now and-" He paused with a grimace on his face. "He has asked me to try and – tolerate you."

Hermione almost laughed.

"Pansy told him we – well, that _I_ was arguing with you." Malfoy said tensely, his jaw locked. Hermione merely shrugged.

"Great." She said curtly and she didn't have to look at him to see the irritation that grew on his face; apart from utter disgust, annoyance was the only other facial expression he held when around her.

Cantrell and Blaise returned before Malfoy could curse her. Blaise no longer looked dirty and the rip in his pants were stitched up., but he had a dark look on his face.

"I need talk to these two Malfoy, so if you will." Cantrell gestured towards the door and Malfoy took his slow leave


	9. Chapter 9

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Nine**

SM <3

* * *

The clock just opposite of them ticked loudly in their silence. Hermione had a feeling that nothing good would be coming from their conversation. Alexandros was looking off, deep in thought and Blaise's disgruntled face was scaring her. Usually she was the one angry with Cantrell; but it was nice not being the bitch for once.

"Can you please take a seat?" Cantrell asked Blaise, who stubbornly shook his head and moved to stand behind her. She shared a look with him, but he shrugged her off.

"You both have come here for answers and explanations. I'm here to give them to you." Cantrell's voice changed slightly and in that moment Hermione got a peek of the generations of great leaders in his persona.

"The Cantrell family has always been known for their intelligence, power and magic. Power gained by political prowess. We are an Ancient and Nobel House and had a seat in the Wizengamot before my great grandfather gave up the seat for reasons I'll explain later. We were two of the founding members of the Magical Congress of the United States of America and hold Secondary seats of the Burkinabé and Cairo's Ministry of Magic in Africa. The International Confederation of Wizards legal premise was drafted by Mali Cantrell, who along with his wife, also served as a founding members of the Confederation. As for intelligence, the Great Marius Cantrell created the famous Polyjuice Potion; Felix Cantrell created the _Flagrante_ curse and the _Incendio_ spell. As you can see we left an imprint on our world and everywhere we went we would be known and recognized." He sighed, folding his hands. For the first time, Hermione realized she never seen him use his wand. "The Wizarding World, as you may know, is full of greedy individuals seeking power. We had what many wanted and we were killed for it. The Cantrell family, a once big, bright and fearless family became hallow in their sudden emptiness. My great grandparents were the ones who decided to give the family under low profile-giving away their seats in ministries, missing meetings, avoiding social events; so the only time one would see a Cantrell was at a fellow Wizarding school or few highly secured gatherings, but even that was rare. Even with all of these precautions, no matter what we did people were still after us, seeking assistance, magic anything really. But for their benefit." He paused to look at Hermione. "My grandparents got to live a long life but my own parents died after being poisoned the day I turned fifteen by a family friend who was so very jealous of our legacy."

"And magic?" Blaise asked. Hermione wondered the same. "You haven't said anything about your magic. I've done my research, the Cantrell's may have tried to hide many things but your magic is different isn't it? Compared to an average witch or wizard."

Cantrell didn't deny his words, instead he shifted straightening his back. "It's not just my magic, it's your magic too. Just like it isn't just my family, it's _our_ family." He said softly. "But you're right. Our magic is...different. We had all the power and respect that any wizard would want. Cantrell magic is unique and special to _our_ family. What _we_ have, what _we_ share wasn't something that could be taken away or given because it's in our blood—in the very veins that carry our life and magic." He gave them a second to digest their words. Hermione was sure her confusion was also reflected in Blaise's face so he continued. "What I am trying to say is, the very essence of magic was why Voldemort wanted us on his side. We held power that he so desperately craved-magic that he didn't have. When he rose to power in the first war, he found out about my magic abilities... Additionally Mya came from a family that practiced Dark and Blood Magic-she knew the spells, curses and enchantments before she even started at Hogwarts. Not to mention the fact that she graduated at the top of our class...Voldemort was after us even before the two of you were born. We were his–side task, for a short while. But then he learned information that made us his main target.

Cantrell leaned forward, "So we have two people from ancient magical families married then pregnant with twins-offspring's that come be just as strong, or even stronger-at least that's what Voldemort thought." His voice was monotone and hallow. He had emotionally detached himself from his words...Maybe it was easier to say that way. Easier to speak about the family he once had and lost all too soon. "Mya's family was called the Marlones and they had a family history of creating and supporting dark wizards around France and Italy. They were addicted to Dark Magic. Just her association with me had her disowned. Even after many years they remained against her. Her brother Milano was always jealous..." He trailed off just as the pain seeped into his word. "A-and he was the one who told Voldemort she was pregnant with a child."

Hermione sat up, "Wait I thought no one knew that you had an heir-"

"We thought no one knew, until Dumbledore told us Voldemort-"

"But Milano-"

"Let me finish. Milano found out she had an heir but wasn't sure what stage of the pregnancy she was in. Of course he went to Voldemort with the wrong information. He told Voldemort that Mya was merely pregnant, when in fact the two of you were already a year old. We didn't know Voldemort knew of you until Dumbledore came and told us; said a spy told him of Voldemort's plans an intentions. He gave us the plan to give you way, and trust me when I say it was the hardest decision we ever had to make. When he came to our manor that night he thought he disposed of you when he killed Mya... He could have easily kidnapped her, waited until she gave birth and even raised the two of you as your own. But the power that he knew would come with a set of Cantrell's scared him, he was intimidated by it so he chose to kill you off and kill any and all possibility of another powerful force being created." He paused, looking up to Blaise.

"I owe Albus a great amount for the warning he gave us. It gave us time that we otherwise wouldn't have had. Without it I doubt you will be sitting before me, healthy, breathing and most importantly _alive_." Hermione looked up at Blaise but he still had the hardened look on his eyes. "Just...don't think we loved you any less because Dumbledore managed to take you away from us and put you with the Zabini's. At least we knew where Belle was. We went crazy not knowing where you were and not knowing if you were safe. Would they know that you liked to drink hot coca before bed? Would they hurt you? Would they love you? All of these questions remained without answers and that destroyed you mother."

The pain of loss returned and heightened in the small space around them. Blaise's warm hand came down to her shoulder from his stance behind her. She quickly covered it with her own. _I'm here and I feel it too._

Cantrell's eyes fell on Hermione. "As you may already know, I think Dumbledore knows I am alive. He has ceased all investigations concerning your disappearance, which proves my case even further. He has also been seen on the Zabini properties. I sure he knows that the both of you are with me." Hermione had to admit that she felt kind of relieved Dumbledore knew. No one was off risking their lives looking for her.

"You still haven't explained why we are here. What else are you keeping from us?" Blaise asked in a reproachful voice. A voice that somehow told Hermione that Blaise already knew what Cantrell was going to say.

"When we gave in the letter, it stated that they were not allowed to give you it unless they've died or were in terrible danger. In realty the two of you were never going to find out the truth of your identity—it was something your mother and I agreed upon. We didn't want to intrude in a life that you had developed, with your new family then change it so dramatically. From the moment we gave you away... we thought we would never get you back."

Hermione looked away from him. She heard all of this already but it didn't hurt any less.

Blaise scuffed at his words. "And? What else Cantrell?"

Hermione looked up at him. What was he trying to get at? Why he was so angry?

Submitting to Blaise's obvious challenge, Cantrell sighed tiredly. "To this day, I still don't know how Voldemort ended up finding out about Cantrell Magic. Probably he found old prophets somewhere in the ministry or even from the many Ancient and Nobel families he had under his command. But he moment he tried to recruit me, I knew he somehow found out. The vigor that sent him out to kill us only increased after we rejected him and publically joined the Order of Phoenix and just like that we became a threat...but a lot changes when you have kids. You have to survive not for yourself but for them, for you."

"We call it Cantrell Magic." He continued hesitatingly. "As I said it's unique to our blood and our magic. It's...for lack of better terms, extraordinary magic. Our family has always kept that secret within the confines of our family-the only people we could trust." Hermione felt the feeling of the room change; this seemed to be the most important thing he had to say yet. Even Blaise walked around her to take a seat.

"The strongest magic we've have had in our family was from a female by the name of Aura Jeanava Cantrell. She had the power of controlling and generating air and wind. Not many Cantrell women get the powers. There have only been five in our long history, Isabelle you being the fifth." Hermione's jaw dropped. She couldn't have those – abilities. It was ridiculous, not only could wizards create spells but now they can – _do this?_ Since when? How? _There was no such wizard that can control the wind… was there?_ Hermione thought. She never heard about wizards that also controlled natural elements. She never read anything of the sort!

"W-what type of-"

"I'll get to that in a bit. Not every Cantrell male was gifted. There was a long period of time where no one was gifted with Cantrell Magic. My own father was an ordinary wizard. But those that had the gift, were forced to suppress and hide the power."

"Why?" She asked.

He shrugged, "Fear. We were being hunted, murdered. We didn't want to draw any further attention to our family."

"That's what you did to us, wasn't it? Before you gave us away. You've suppressed out powers." Blaise stated.

"Yes and that is why you have felt _almost_ nothing more than your normal magical ability." He confirmed.

"What happened to it?" Hermione asked curiously.

Cantrell smiled, "It's in a safe place. The two of you have it on presently."

Hermione immediately reached for her oval locket.

"Yes, your lockets." Hermione looked down at hers. The initials IHC stared back at her. She almost forgot she still had it on. The only function it seemed to have was opening the entrance; she didn't think it had any other use all she remembered was the red flash, the light and the wail. Hermione wondered... if she had already opened it–shouldn't she have gotten the magic already?

Blaise must've been wondering the same thing, because he voiced her thoughts.

"Well I was the one who put the magic in the locket; I am the one to take it out."

"You removed our magic." Hermione accused. "That's-that's illegal! It's impossible!"

"So can you? Now? That's why we're here isn't it?" Blaise quickly interrupted. His eyes were no longer black but their original bright hazel.

"It isn't impossible. Admittedly, it takes a lot out of me but I had to do it to protect you." He gave her a meaningful look. "I intended to give your magic back. That is, if you want it."

"Why wouldn't we?" Blaise blurted with a big grin.

Cantrell didn't answer.

"All our power is in this locket?" Hermione asked looking down at the locket once again.

"Well not all of it-a bit of it still lies in your magical core."

"Do you know what they are? The Cantrell Magic, I mean." Blaise asked.

"I have my suspicions. Your gifts are usually passed down from a previous Cantrell. It can either be more or less advanced, which is something we've gathered though the centuries."

"Wait… what kind of magic do you have?" She asked.

Cantrell smiled. "I can see into a person's mind and have great magical strength. Which is why I was able to move around such a core part of your magic and put it into your lockets. It was probably the single hardest form of magic I've ever practiced."

Hermione looked at him in newly found curiosity and amazement, "That's-"

"Scary?" Blaise finished.

She scowled at him and rolled her eyes, "more like unbelievable! Does that mean you can," She paused to debate her words. "If you can move magic around...Can you take magic away from one's core? Permanently?"

Cantrell only frowned, but not at Hermione. He frowned at the mere thought of permanently taking something so special and essential to a witch or wizard.

"I've pondered it, yes. But it's something I've never felt the need to exercise." And suddenly he become scarier than Voldemort could ever be. He didn't say he _couldn't_ , he just _chose_ not to.

Blaise whistled lowly, "...So you've been reading my mind?"

Cantrell laughed at his quick changed of topic, "I can only read minds with a touch, once I let go I can't read any more. It is no like Legilimency. No one can stop me from doing it, nor can I see old memories unless, course, you think of them the moment I make contact with you."

"So... that means we have inherited those gifts?"

"Yes or something like it. For example, Nate's eyes. Have you ever wondered why they changed colors?" He asked the young wizard.

Blaise nodded. "Of course, but my mom told me its metamorph-"

"Not exactly. It was probably the only thing she could make up to explain it. Think more out of the box, it gives you better answers." He winked. "Your gifts are not inherited from me. You've inherited from my grandfather, Opleon Cantrell. His normal eye color was blue but it would change according to his mood…or better yet, the mood of others. Your original eye color is light hazel, like mine. Grandpa Op was able to lure people in with his eyes, sort of like hypnotism but a mild form. It normally attracts the opposite sex." At that Blaise smirked. "Also, you have not been able to develop this power for it was put into the locket, but I'm sure you have the ability to sense and control the emotions or feelings of others—essentially aiding the power you have in your eyes. Of course it takes time to develop it fully. It may not seem like it but this gift is very powerful, it is not to be used for 'fun'." Cantrell said sternly because Blaise was grinning like a mad man. He turned to Hermione, his eyes with a certain sparkle to it and Hermione just snorted and rolled her eyes.

He pouted. "Would it work on her?"

"Considering she's your sister…it's not likely. You can _try_ to progress it further in order make it work on like Hermione and Pansy, that's at your own leisure."

Blaise pouted some more.

"How do you develop it?" Hermione asked. Naturally, she wanted to know everything there was to know about this 'Cantrell Magic.' She had never heard of magic reaching outside the limit of spells and potions. To think –to _know_ that it ran through her own veins…honestly thrilled her.

"As you would develop everything else; practice."

"Wait so what does she have?" Blaise asked a bit childishly. Cantrell looked at her for a moment.

"Belle," He said, a small smile resting on his face, as he turned his attention to her. "Shows early signs of my gift, the ability to see into the minds of others. I'm sure you easily feel emotions, or tensions that surround you?"

Hermione slowly nodded. "Yes but that's hardly anything to be overtly proud of. I've met plenty wizards who can easily gage their surroundings."

"You'd be surprised at how much your magic can grasp. Challenge yourself Belle. Always." He said nothing more but she nodded all the same.

"Take the time to fully develop what's already wrapped in your core. Now that you are somewhat aware, you'll be able to use it, challenge it…manipulate it." He gave them an encouraging smile. "I…my father…he always told me to 'challenge the limits' because it's what made- _makes_ us and our family the respect and power it has. When it comes to your mind and your magic…never settle, always expect and yearn for more." He paused with a content smile, before quickly adding, "So long as it isn't guided by immoral motives, of course." The younger witch and wizards quietly chuckled at his slight panic.

They sat in a comfortable silence. Thoughts of magic, power and family all clouding their minds.

"So, when are we going to get this?" Blaise finally asked.

"In due time. For now, practice the little bit of Cantrell Magic you have in your core."

"That means we're done here?" He nodded and Blaise got up. He looked at Hermione and opened his mouth but Hermione beat him to it, anticipating what he was going to ask and quickly shaking her head.

"I'm staying for a while."

"Show off." He muttered with a smile. She childishly stuck out her tongue and he barked out laughing.

When Blaise reached the door he turned back again. "Can I tell Pans and Draco?"

"No." He said sternly.

Blaise nodded and left the other two in silence.

"Do you feel any different?"

Hermione traced patterns on the couch, her hand still holding the locket. She didn't feel any different. She could tell how people were feeling, like when they were lying or nervous. She had thought it was a normal thing, simply gaging ones surrounding. No big deal.

Hermione told him that.

"Am I supposed to feel any different?" She added. He leaned back on his seat and tapped his fingers against his knee, in deep thought.

"No you shouldn't." Cantrell finally said.

"Then, how do I know-"

"What you do best: ponder, evaluate, focus and gage. Your brain is already very advance for your age. You can sense what people feel Belle, don't make it more complicated than that." He paused, contemplating his next words. "I know…and please do not get angry with me for bringing this up…but when your parents died-" She flinched at the words. "-You were in pain. You felt your loss ten times harder than a normal person would because it wasn't just yours. When you went back to the Granger's home, the anguish and pain that your parents suffered and left in the air attatched itself to you…So it wasn't just mental grief, but it became physical pain because you held on to it. Your body took almost four days to recover…and you still feel that pain now. Your form of grieving hasn't been normal and you know it. You feel it. The grief. From the deepest pits of your heart to the end of your feet. You feel it in yourself, in others and I know you must've felt the loss of Mya, that's imprinted on the walls of the manor."

Hermione didn't tell him to stop. She didn't tell him to shut up. She wanted to hear what he was saying. She wanted for someone to finally tell her why the loss of her parents was so very painful. She felt tears come down her cheeks and her hands quickly moved to hold on to her chest, and subconsciously began to rock back and forth to distract from the pain that began to grow over her heart.

She felt the sofa dip as he took a seat next to her, "This magic. It's dangerous. It's frightening and overwhelming. But with patience and practice it becomes a part of you. Something that you will eventually love about yourself and the family that passed it along to you. It's a gift. Don't feel intimidated by it. Embrace it. Control it. And grow to love it." He said quietly.

Hermione nodded in understanding. After a few moments of silence she let go of her chest and wiped her tears.

"I don't understand one thing." She started quietly. "This…power…all of a sudden it works but why didn't it before, if as you said, I've had it all this time?"

"It probably has but you hadn't realized it. When you read people, analyze them, get an understanding of them, as I know you have—its empathic power. Unfortunately the death of your…parents, along with the discovery of the locket, augmented your powers."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Magic is a very beautiful thing. Most of it cannot be explained but we are very gifted to be so fortune to have it." He walked to the last shelves of book and came back and handed the book to her. "It tells you everything about empathy. Read it, and then give it to Nate." She thought he was giving her the cue to leave but…it didn't feel like he wanted her to. She set the book down and got more comfortable in the seat.

"Did you grow to love your magic?" Hermione asked inquisitively.

"I did. I learned to control it… But it's been a while since I've used it."

"Why?"

"For one, there was no need for it these last sixteen years. I've lived here alone and there was no one out to see." Hermione felt pity for him at the moment. She didn't even want to think about being so lonely for such a long period of time.

"You've stayed in here, alone, for almost sixteen years? Didn't you ever feel the need to go out? Did you ever… go see us?"

Hermione saw it in his face then felt it—he was hurt. "Of course I did. You two are _my_ children Isabelle. It hurt me every single day that the two of you were away from me. I had to stop myself from going straight to the Grangers and get you back. I've checked in to see you many times, knowing it would put you, along with myself, in danger but I risked it. Not too often, probably once or twice a year. It was easy to find you; you were always in the Muggle Park by the tree reading a book. Nathan on the other hand was hardly allowed out as a kid and the only chance I got to see him was in Diagon Ally, or Hogsmead. I know some things about your years at Hogwarts, especially about that Victor Krum you dated. He was about twice your age wasn't he?" He looked at her disapprovingly.

Hermione only smiled. She didn't want to get into the conversation with him. It was still strange to talk about personal things like that.

"Have you heard of my adventures with Harry Potter?"

He sighed deeply and tiredly. "Yes I have. It's maddening that I have tried to put the two of you out of harm's way and you walk back into it, year after year. With Blaise being one of Voldemort's followers and you being best friends with Mr. Potter, it was very hard not to check in every once in a while."

"I turned out ok though, didn't I?"

Again, Cantrell smiled proudly. "Yes, you have."

It was probably one of the few conversations that didn't turn into an argument. So Hermione decided to push her luck, "Speaking of Harry, can I go to the Order headquarters any time soon?"

He took a moment to answer. "Yes." He finally said, a bit hesitantly. "I will go with you, I believe it is time for people to know the truth."

There was a question bothering her and she felt it was the perfect moment to ask.

"D-do – can you explain what happened the night Voldemort went after you and Mya?"

She felt him stiffen up beside her, "that is not something…I'm not prepared to talk about it. Not right now."

Hermione didn't question it any further. She took her book and stood up; she was going to leave even if he still didn't want her to.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Ten**

SM <3

* * *

The cottage was beautifully decorated. The rich violet, forest green and a lot of venetian red made one feel comfortable and somewhat at home. When the curtains were apart and the sunlight came in, the interior would light up marvelously from the first floor to the second. The cottage looked relatively small from the outside but once inside was a large home. Hermione supposed it was an enchantment. Outside of the kitchen, dining room, common room and library, there were six bed rooms upstairs. All of the rooms were fairly small but not so you feel cramped in between the walls. She thought the last empty room was an additional guest room but when she decided to explore one day, she found it to be empty, dark and drafty; there was a window in the corner of the room but dark curtains covered any light the room could possibly get. She hadn't bothered to ask Cantrell—the room was rather frightening and she didn't want to go back in.

Hermione had been in or at least seen everyone's room except Malfoys. She had been in Pansy's room just earlier that morning to call her down for breakfast; Malfoy wasn't in the cottage at the time. He had 'things to do', Blaise told her in the most disbelieving way. Hermione came to realize that the blond was hardly at the cottage. The last time she him was just an hour ago; his robes dirty with mud and grass stains. Hermione wondered what and where he was going but she kept it all to herself since Cantrell, Blaise nor Pansy dared to say her a word about it.

Malfoy had loyal friends. She wondered if he knew that.

To her surprise, she had another civil and pleasant conversation with Pansy during breakfast. Hermione thought the previous chat would have been forgotten; that Pansy wouldn't bother to talk to her again but the Slytherin witch surprised her. They even had a brief conversation about the guys at Hogwarts, which got a few laughs and an ongoing smirk from Blaise – who thought he was the best thing that happened to Hogwarts. The statement started a bark of laughter from Hermione and a 'yeah right,' from Pansy.

"You know, I reckon I can get any girl at Hogwarts." Blaise boasted. The three of them were currently sitting in his room trying to pass time. Blaise lay across his bed, both his legs hanging off. To say he was bored, was an understatement. Hermione sat crossed legged, at the head of the bed

"I doubt it, even a Gryffindor?" Pansy was in the loveseat that was right next to the mirror and every few minutes she would glance at herself until she gave up and moved the seat in front of it while playing with her long locks of hair.

"Of course-they're the easiest." He said slyly.

Hermione grabbed his pillow and smacked him with it twice, a small smile on her face. "That's my house you're talking about Zabini!" She glared playfully. Blaise laughed outright and sat up.

"I'm only joking with you my dear _little_ sister." Hermione punched him hard in the gut and he fell off the bed in pain.

She finally admitted to herself that she _liked_ Blaise. Their conversations were funny and effortless. She even felt that way when talking to Pansy. It didn't match up exactly to her friendship with Harry and Ron; however they also had six years to build up that friendship.

"You know Blaise; you are quite pitiful for a Slytherin." Pansy said. She looked down at him, disapprovingly. Hermione tried to hold back her laughter at the sight

" _You know Pansy_ ," He mocked her. "You are quite self-centered for a witch." Blaise cringed away from her as him waiting for her to hit him too but she didn't move a muscle.

"You know - I'm going to take that as a compliment." Hermione laughed loudly and the girls shared a grin.

"I don't like this," Blaise pouted, looking between the two witches. "You two keep gaining up on me. If Draco was here…"

Hermione snorted.

"Oh please Blaise. I am sure Draco would take our side also. Your proficiency to keep up with a conversation, let alone an argument is anything but amazingly staggering." Pansy waited for a reply but he only looked confused.

"What?"

"My point exactly."

Blaise scuffed in response.

"You know… I can see the resemblance." At Pansy's words, Hermione and Blaise shared a disgusted look.

"I never realized it, but really who could've? For one the Cantrell's 'had no heirs left' so no one thought to check it out. At Hogwarts – well let's face it, the two of you were never seen beside each other much less would you even share a glance-" She looked a Hermione. "I bet you didn't even recognize him when you first saw him." The brunette blushed in shame. She really didn't.

"Anyway now that I'm looking at the two of you–and beside each other–I can see it." She took a deep breath and was met with silence.

"What resemblances do we have?"

"You have the same nose and the color of your hair, which you both got from Cantrell...I wish I knew what your mother looked like." She said wistfully.

"Mya was a beauty." Hermione commented a soft smile on her face. "There was a portrait at the manor. I wish you could see it. She was mesmerizing."

"Your facial structures are very similar to Cantrell, Blaise. The darker skin tone I assume you got from your mother." Pansy said and Hermione nodded to confirm the fact

"I do not look like that wonker."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Oh hush. Mr. Cantrell is a dream boat. If I was five years older—"

"Only five?" Hermione chuckled.

Pansy winked, "Anyway, the both of you get the same look on your faces when you're thinking hard. Draco and I laughed about it the other day actually."

"So my best mates talk about me and my little sister behind my back?" Blaise said, feigning anger.

"Oh, shut up Blaise. You know it wasn't like that." Then she looked at Hermione. "Trust me, it wasn't"

But the mention of Malfoy had already changed her mood. The switch didn't go unnoticed by Blaise, who motioned Pansy to leave.

"Well, would you look at the time?" Pansy had no watch nor was there a clock in the room. "Cantrell wanted to meet with meet with me about the uh – thing, so I guess I see you two later."

Blaise waited until the door closed behind Pansy before turning to her, a smirk on his face. "Sibro time." He said evilly.

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't bite into his bait.

"Ok, now what's wrong? Just before you were happy, now you're all … mad?" He looked at her quizzically. "What did we do?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You're beginning to sound like Cantrell."

He only ignored her comment. "Time of the month?"

"Ugh Zabini! You're infuriating." The witch crossed her arms and stared up at the ceiling, a pathetic attempt to avoid his gaze.

"Seriously, what's wrong?"

"It's just-you told Draco Malfoy to be _nice_ to me?"

The boy froze then cursed under his breath.

"What makes you think you can go and tell people to be _nice_ to me? I can take care of myself! God you remind me more of Harry and Ron every day!"

"Don't compare me to those idiots."

"Beside the point!"

Silence.

"That git told you?"

"BLAISE!"

"Sorry, it's just the two of you always argue and it gets annoying." He paused. "Draco…knows how to make you tick because he knows your weak points. I know you were very upset with whatever he said to you that first day–don't lie. On top of that you know his weak points also. That just makes the situation ten times worse. If you tolerate each other, well nothing…bad can happen. So that's what I told him; to back off a bit."

 _Oh_. Hermione thought, a bit impressed. It made sense and it was safer for the both of them.

"You have nothing to say now, do you Granger?" He smirked. She glanced away and looked out his window. She was able to tolerate most but Malfoy...since their first year at Hogwarts he always managed to get under her skin.

"That's fine, I just-" She stopped in mid-sentence because his door opened and in came the devil himself.

Malfoy walked in hurriedly, his head in a black covered book. The white, pressed shirt he wore was a bit wrinkled. The first few bottoms were unbuttoned, and his hair was undone, falling over his eyebrow. When he finally looked up and saw Hermione sitting at the end of the bed, he looked slightly shocked but so was Hermione; she never saw Malfoy look so disheveled and unguarded.

Malfoy quickly closed his book and put on the usual expressionless mask.

"Blaise, Granger." He nodded at them and just stood there, a bit disturbed and uncomfortable with Hermione's presence.

"What's up Draco?" Blaise said with a bit of a smile. Malfoy ran a hand through his hair, in a sly attempt to fix it.

"I was going to – but you're busy, so I'll just leave-"

"Problem?" Hermione asked with a smirk. The standing wizard shoved his hand in his pockets and glared hatefully at her.

"Yes most because you seem to be everywhere I bloody go!"

She merely coked her head to the side. "You're never here!"

"That's because _you_ always are!"

"No one else complains about my presence but you Malfoy."

"They're not me."

"And I thank Merlin for that. We all know we don't need another Malfoy running around, terrorizing people." She was seething. Blaise was right-they did know which whole to pick when it came to the other. The moment the words came out her mouth, she knew he would retaliate. Luckily, Blaise smoothly slid between them so Malfoy's wand was no longer pointed at her face but his.

"That's enough Draco!" Blaise said.

The blonde's eyes widened. "Me?! Zabini you heard what that undeserved witch said-"

"Yes I did _Malfoy!_ Now drop your wand, calm down and _back off."_ Blaise responded furiously, his eyes transitioning into a midnight black.

Malfoy's cheeks were pink with rage and he slowly dropped his wand but glared hatefully at Blaise. Anger, hurt and betrayal, resting in his eyes. He gave them one last glare before leaving the room, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Hermione hesitantly touched Blaise's shoulder, "I'm sorry." She said softly. Not for what she said, but for forcing him to choose a side and hurting his friend. He examined her face, looking for sincerity. He found it and his eyes turned a muggy gray.

Blaise sighed tiredly. "It's alright. He'll get over it." He paused. "You didn't have to start Hermione. He was just about to leave when you-"

"Yes I know and I am sorry." She exclaimed. Sensing his irritation, she made her way to leave. "I'll talk to you later." The wizard merely shrugged and threw himself on his bed.

Hermione walked down the hall back to her room, her mind still on the damned blonde-his hurt expression wedged into her thoughts. She didn't mean to come between them. The last thing she expected was for Blaise to defend _her_ before he defended his longtime friend. And she didn't expect the emotions that she saw in his face and in the air—the hurt, the anger and the betrayal—and her own magic grabbed and wrapped around it as if it was her own.

She felt very emotion that raced through him, as if it were her own. It frightened her, yes, but she it felt so empowered. _Her_ magic did that. It was the first time she felt the magic that Cantrell explained to them and with Malfoy of all people, she thought with a roll of her eyes. At least it taught her something; Draco Malfoy actually cared for someone that wasn't himself.

He cared for Blaise, his best friend—his brother.

With that thought, she closed her door and turned the opposite way to Malfoy's room.

As she reached his door she built up all her courage and knocked lightly. There was moment of silence, then the door opened and she was greeted by a thoroughly annoyed Draco Malfoy.

"What do you want? You're here to take claim over my room too?" He sneered.

"First off I didn't _take_ anything away from you. You _have_ Blaise and Pansy-" He didn't seem to be listening. She felt he was looking right through her with a scowl on his face.

"I know that already Granger. They're not like those two idiots you have back home." Then he smirked. "Speaking of Weasley, You know Lavender Brown is with the Weasley's at the Borrow?" He smirked, looking to get a rise out of her.

Hermione clench her hand into fist. "How would you know Malfoy? Sneaking on the Weasley's and planning your next attack?"

The smirk was whipped off his face and replaced with an angry frown.

"That's none of your business."

She twitched for her wand. "Of course it is. If a _death eater_ is-"

"Shut up Granger, once again your defective sense of judgement faults you." He drawled, angrily lowering his arms to his side. Anger wrapped itself around her and she didn't know whether it was hers or his—she didn't care.

"It isn't judgement. Its knowledge. It's fact! Have you forgotten your year at Hogwarts? Have your forgotten that just weeks ago you tried to kill Dumbledore—

"And I didn't!" He responded, raising his voice. "You don't attack Blaise with this bullshit and you know perfectly well that he is a death eater." Malfoy argued.

"That's different. Blaise isn't a main priority to Voldemort, who sends you Malfoy's out for 'special missions.' You forget that my parents were killed by you and your people on one of those 'missions'!" Her eyes flashing red with fury.

Malfoy didn't respond. He looked down on her angrily and when he lifted his hand she thought he was reach for his wand and on instinct, she grabbed hers. To her surprise, he merely pulled the sleeve of his left arm up to his elbows and turned his arm so his palm was facing upward, showing her a pale forearm.

Her eyes widened.

"T-there's no mark." Hermione whispered in utter disbelief. She grabbed his arm, not caring whether he would blast her to the opposite wall. His arm was strong and, surprisingly, warm. She rubbed her thumb over the area that was supposed to be tattooed with the dark mark, as if rubbing it would make it appear but no such thing happened. His skin remained as pale and unscratched as ever.

"You're not a death eater." She whispered, looking up at him. "Bu-but you let the death eaters into Hoogwarts! You almost killed Dumbledore!" She felt guilt start to build in the pits of her stomach for once again accusing him of murder.

"And I failed. So sorry to disappoint you Granger, but I am not a death eater." He replied harshly, stepping away from their close proximity and ripping his arm out of her grip.

Hermione looked at the floor and bit her lip. "Look Malfoy, I'm-"

"Don't waste your breath Granger. I don't want an apology from you. I'm redeemable in your eyes now because there isn't a bloody mark on my arm?" He sneered angrily, anger ripping through him once again.

"Don't get your hopes up Malfoy. Just because you don't have the mark doesn't make a saint." She paused then sighed, giving up on this whole confrontation. "The only reason I came to your room Malfoy was to tell you not to blame Blaise for defending me. It was my fault so _please_ do not be mad at him."

In reply he slammed the door in her face. She kicked it and angrily marched back to her room.

* * *

Hermione was sitting on her bed when Pansy came in and told her Cantrell wanted all of them in the library. When they entered, the girls found Malfoy and Blaise in conversation, all arguments forgotten. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. _Boys._

"Looks like the two of you are back to talking." Hermione stated, announcing her presence.

Blaise grinned up at her. "Draco's was just telling me about our lockets."

"What about them?" She asked. His hazel eyes left hers and landed on the blonde beside her, who as per usual, was glaring at her.

Malfoy took the book that was sitting on his lap and handed it to Pansy who just flipped through it and then handed it to Hermione. "I was doing some research, when I came across a picture that looked exactly like your lockets. There is a whole chapter on them—probably more than any other book would have about your lockets."

Hermione flipped through the book until she reached the marked page and gasped. It looked exactly like the locket she had around her neck. What surprised her was that the picture dated back to 1445.

"It's called the _Lumen de Potentia_ , meaning Light of Power in Latin. Its creators aren't known, but the chapter says, not only can it hold magic, but it has this sort of connection with its twin. It can…send signals to the other—turning red and heating up as means of communicating with the owner of the necklace.

"It's a very old and powerful magical artifact. I would think it was made with Dark Magic…but I don't believe Cantrell would give his heirs something manifested by dark wizards and witches."

"Maybe Blood Magic?" Blaise suggested.

"Maybe, but even that is considered dark by many wizards."

"What else does it say? About the history, I mean?" Pansy asked, her ears perking with interest.

"One would assume the necklaces were created simultaneously—twin necklaces. But record shows sighting of the necklace was first seen on one individual, Septimus Cantrell in 1248. The other one out of sight for many years, up until 1501 where the jewelry was seen on two sisters and has been seen on around the neck of Cantrell's throughout history." He paused and looked at the locket around Hermione's neck. "I think the two of you have the same lockets on right now."

Centuries upon centuries of Cantrell family was in her hands—probably one of the oldest pieces of jewelry throughout the entire wizarding world…belonged to her. She could only imagine what the locket has seen, the people the locket may have encountered. Hermione took off hers and put it beside the picture. They were both shiny and new, same shape and size—the family crest sitting bright and bold in the still-photo. There was no picture of the backside so the initials of whoever it belonged to at the moment weren't known.

"Congratulations Draco, you have taken the Know-It-All." Pansy said with a smirk. They shared a laugh and some of the tension over the discovery of such a powerful magical artifact, eased off the room.

"Does anyone know why we're here?" Pansy asked. Malfoy and Blaise shared a look.

"I think we're going to the Order Headquarters." Malfoy stated quietly.

Hermione felt heart stop. She looked at Blaise and he nodded in confirmation.

"Oh my… I thought he was joking." The three of them looked at Pansy, quizzical expressions all across their faces. "Well…Cantrell told me I'd have to go to the Order about my father. He said there should be an auror there who can help me obtain a trustworthy ministry official that can assist me."

"When was this Pans?" Malfoy asked.

"Last night."

The boys groaned. "Pansy! You couldn't tell us before?"

"Well, I didn't think he was serious about it!" She exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at the two wizards. "He said it was only a suggestion. And anyways why does it bother you, Draco? You're practically there every day, today should be no different."

Hermione looked at Malfoy in surprise.

"Pansy." Blaise sighed.

Malfoy gave the witch death glares. Pansy looked unaffected. "Oh, come off it Zabini, Hermione was going to find out eventually. _You_ were going to tell her eventually."

Malfoy turned accusing eyes to Blaise, who avoided them. "Yeah but I didn't." He raised his hands in surrender. "You did."

"Why are you at the Order?" Hermione asked. As he met her gaze and she saw distrust and a bit of anger from their earlier confrontation.

"Go on Draco, tell her. We are going to live here for the rest of the summer, plus who is she going to tell-"

"Pansy, for once in your life shut that bloody hole in your mouth." They glared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Hermione knew she wouldn't be getting an answer today.

"I'm glad to see we all are getting along." The four young adults turned to look at Cantrell. He was walking toward them, wearing elegant burgundy robes. His hair was freshly cut and his stubble gone. Hermione recognized it as his first effort to becoming the man he once was.

"I knew that hair cut would look great on you!" Pansy exclaimed happily. Hermione snorted; of course it was Pansy Parkinson's handy work.

"Thank you Pansy. You all know why we are here, but before we leave any questions?"

"Does the Order know we're coming? And by that, I mean do they know _all_ of us are coming _together_?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Well," He started hesitantly. "I wrote Dumbledore a letter, as Nate, stating that he found you, Isabelle, and that Pansy was tired of hiding and needed help. Draco… was asked by Dumbledore-"

"Don't bother, she knows, thanks to one big mouthed witch." Malfoy interrupted, looking loathsomely at Pansy.

"Get over it Malfoy!" Pansy spit out.

"Don't you tell me-"

"So, they don't know you're coming?" Blaise interrupted quickly.

"No exactly...but they are very aware, and I should hope prepared, for the arrival of you three. I have to admit, I love surprises and I believe now is the right time to come out of the shadows." Cantrell stated with such courage and power that would've impressed Godric Gryffindor.

"So we are going to tell them, _everything_?" Blaise asked.

Cantrell slowly shook his head, "No. There are many things about our family that the rest of the world should never know. The second lesson I will give you on being in Cantrell is: you should always know how and when to withhold certain truths." He paused. "Just... follow my lead."

"Now, if you will turn your attention to the key on the table." Hermione looked at the table and indeed saw a key. It was old, gold and a bit rusty on the top half.

"It's a portkey that will take you outside the quarters; I have to secure the cottage so you four, go ahead."

The four of them looked at each other before standing and gathering around the table.

"On the count of three." Pansy said. "One… two… three!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have as much fun reading the next two chapters as I had writing them!  
> Happy Reading & let me know what you think :)) --SM

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter Eleven**

SM <3

* * *

Hermione felt the familiar pull on her navel before she hit solid ground. When she sat up, she found the dark streets deserted. The terraced house was standing before her, number twelve unhidden, as if inviting her in. All the nervous anxiety she previously had was gone. It felt safe. It felt like home.

"Grimmauld Place? The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?" Pansy questioned, then laughed. "I wonder what Walburga would do if she were alive..."

"Don't say her name-my parents told me it's cursed." Blaise whispered.

They heard a soft thud behind them and turned to see Cantrell had landed.

"Are we ready?" They nodded hesitantly. Malfoy stepped up and slowly opened the door. It creaked and shut closed behind them. The dim lights in the hall hardly lit up the long hallway but everything was as it was the last time she visited the headquarters. The frames, portraits, the staircase and the mirrors full of dust. It was uncannily silent though, and Hermione saw not one soul in the long hallway.

"I thought you said you sent a note to Dumbledore." Hermione questioned Cantrell. He nodded slowly, his eyes taking in the surroundings.

"This place is creepy...and disgusting. Didn't the Black's have house elves?" Pansy whispered form beside her, itching away from the wall.

In the eerie silence, Hermione assumed the worst. What if they were still out looking for her? What if something happened to any of the order members? It would be her fault and everyone would –

"Hermione. Relax." Blaise said quietly, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. She nodded at him in thanks; she needed to stay focused.

As they walked further into the house they heard clatter from the kitchen that put all her fears to rest; the sound of plates being washed and put away.

"Mrs. Weasley." she whispered happily. She took more hurried stepped and the floor made a low creak. The clattering in the kitchen stopped immediately. The kitchen door creaked open and Hermione caught sight of big red hair that belonged to Molly Weasley. A smile immediately came upon her face.

The elder witch gasped as her eyes landing on her and she immediately engulfed her in a hug.

"Oh Hermione dearest! I've been so worried, where have you been? We thought you had – and all of us were going completely out of our minds, thinking the worst! Dumbledore said you were safe wherever you were but-" She paused and looked at her face. "Are you alright sweetie? Do you want something to eat, a snack perhaps?" She held her at arm's length. "I'm so glad you're here darling. Harry and Ron are going to be so happy to see you. Speaking of which let me Floo home really quick-" She stopped her ranting when she saw Cantrell, Pansy, Blaise and Malfoy.

"Oh my – what-?" She looked at Hermione with bewildered eyes. She shrugged in response, not knowing know or where how to begin explaining the presence of the company she brought with her.

Mrs. Weasley took a look at Cantrell, her face pinched in confusion.

"What's going on here? Who are you?"

Cantrell stepped up–into better light—and held out his hand.

"My name is Alexandros Bryant Cantrell but I believe we have already met, Molly." The silence that followed was a long and tense one as Ms. Weasley only stared down at his hand in shock; her jaw dropped and her face paled.

"W-what? H-how are you-?" She took a step back, her eyes wide then looked at Hermione again. "I don't know what, or _how_ you are here–Merlin this is unbelievable...Can you all take a seat in the dining room please?" She asked out of her mesmerized gaze and watched Cantrell go into the dining room in awe. When the door finally shut she looked at Hermione.

"Dear, you have brought us a mighty surprise. Do you know that man is supposed to be dead?! Do you have any idea who he is?" She asked quickly. Hermione nodded. Maybe she was too much in shock to remember that Hermione came in with him.

"Oh, who am I kidding, of course you do! We've missed you so much Hermione." She smiled happily then pulled Hermione into another bone crushing hug. "Go in there an-and keep them company. I'll go fetch Dumbledore."

She walked up the stairs and out of sight. When Hermione stepped inside the drafty room, she saw Cantrell sitting at the head of the table. Draco and Pansy sat beside each other, with Blaise alone on the opposite side.

"Where did she go?" Blaise asked as she neared her seat beside him. She felt a light rush of sadness come over her that wasn't hers, and looked at him quizzically. He was playing with a fork on the table, in deep thought.

"To get everyone I guess. Be prepared for a lot of questions and weird stares."

"Don't worry about the questions; let me handle them." Cantrell ordered.

Hermione nodded and put her attention back on Blaise who was rubbing the back of his neck. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Blaise froze up then signed heavily, "I feel… weird being here...guilty...as if-" He paused, placing a hand over his forearm and she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Hermione grabbed the hand with the mark, quickly shutting him up. "This doesn't define you Blaise. I don't see you as a death eater and I _know_ you won't do anything to harm the people you will meet today." At his lack of response she continued, "How about you talk to Dumbledore-" He quickly shook his head in refusal. "He probably knows already Blaise and the best thing to do is to talk to him. He'll make you a spy and you can help us! Just… think about it." She finished. He nodded but his mind still looked far off so she wasn't sure if she got to him.

Hermione sighed in defeat and rested her head on her arms. Blaise's doubts were getting to her. Maybe coming back now wasn't the best idea.

"Don't let anyone force you into doing or saying anything you don't feel comfortable saying." Cantrell warned the twins. "Let me lead...and if you get stuck on your words, I'll cover-don't worry." He ended with a nod. He was asking them to trust him. She sent him an appreciative smile. A second later they heard three pairs of feet coming down the steps and not a moment too soon did the door open to reveal Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore.

Suddenly, she felt anger wrap around her core that wasn't her own. Looking up, she looked around the room to slowly realize it was Cantrell—a bitter anger, radiating relentlessly toward Albus Dumbledore, but his face remained cool and collected. The last time they saw each other he was running away with his two year old son with the intention of placing him in the hands of Death Eaters.

"Alexandros Cantrell, who would've thought?" Arthur whispered. Cantrell remained silent and Hermione yearned to know he was thinking—what he was planning. Would his anger cloud his judgement? Did he even _have_ a plan?

Mr. Weasley finally rested his eyes on her and his eyes softened a bit.

"Hermione Granger! Thank Merlin you're okay! How are you my dear?"

She smiled lightly. When they asked her if she was okay she knew they meant it as to say 'how are you dealing with the death of your parents?'

 _Give it time; give them time._ "I'm fine."

He nodded happily. Remus looked at her appraisingly and she merely nodded. Their eyes and minds were elsewhere-too busy trying to figure out how a man who was supposed to be dead, was currently sitting on their table.

"Welcome back Alexandros." Dumbledore greeted.

Cantrell smiled forcefully. He then stood up, to move toward the trio and held his hand up for Dumbledore to shake.

"Good to be back Albus. I assume you know why I'm here?" His hand was in the air and Dumbledore hesitated, but shook his hand and quickly let. When she saw a look of understanding stretch across Cantrell's face, she realized he was using his magic again. Those couple of seconds were all he needed. A smile grew on her face before she could help it.

"He's back." Blaise muttered beside her and Hermione grinned in response.

Dumbledore's eyes swiftly looked at them before turning his attention back to Cantrell who now stood smiling before him.

"Oh, where are my manners," Cantrell loudly. "It's a great to see you all again." He shook hands with the other wizards in the room. Hermione had never seen Lupin look so confused. "Now can we take a seat or will we stand throughout this whole ordeal?" Cantrell looked at the men expectedly. Arthur and Lupin gave each other a skeptical look but still took a seat on the opposite end, with Dumbledore at the other head seat.

"Alexandros, I am very surprised at your presence." The white-bearded man said. Hermione almost snorted. That was a lie. "Surprised yet very, very confused."

"And that is why I am here. To explain and clear off confused thoughts." Cantrell said, with a glance at Lupin.

"Yes of course and maybe you should start-" Dumbledore started but was interrupted as the door was thrown open.

Harry Potter entered the room with wide green eyes.

"H-Hermione?" He stuttered as gasped for air. He looked like he had just woken up. His shirt was wrinkled and… backwards? His black untidy hair was messier than usual, but his bright green eyes were full of happiness and relief. Hermione ignored the surprised stares, stood up and engulfed him in a hug.

Finally. Familiarity. Her friend. Her family.

"Where have you been? I thought – when we saw your house we thought you were gone!"

She let go of him and smiled widely. "Well I've-"

Dumbledore's calm voice interrupted her. "Harry would you be so kind as to take this reunion to the Burrow, I am sure the Weasley's will be glad to see Ms. Granger. Please take Ms. Parkinson, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini with you."

Harry looked at Dumbledore as if trying to make sure he wasn't mistaken. He then looked at the other visitors in the house and his body went tense. "You want me to do _what_?"

"Actually," Cantrell said standing back up. Harry's glare turned to look at the stranger. "You can take Ms. Parkinson and Mr. Malfoy—Draco, I believe Ms. Nymphadora Tonks is your cousin, can you please introduce her to Pansy?"

"Yes Sir." Draco replied quickly.

"Great! Pansy, Draco please head to the Borrow. Albus, I'd prefer Hermione and Blaise to stay here, if you don't mind."

Harry took a step in front of Hermione, protecting her from the man he didn't recognize. "And you are?"

Cantrell raised an eyebrow, his gaze falling on Hermione with a bemused grin, "I'm assuming this is the Potter boy you frequently speak of?"

Harry looked at her quizzically, but all she could do was smile. She was so happy to see him! "It's alright Harry, I'll explain everything later."

"Are you sure you want Ms. Granger and Mr. Zabini to stay Alexandros?" Dumbledore asked quietly, his eyes moving from Hermione to Blaise and finally Cantrell. "I ensure you they'll be safe where they are headed."

Cantrell gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Considering our history, those words don't mean much coming from you, Albus."

Dumbledore frowned and the room quickly fell into a tense silence. "Harry, you can go now." Their headmaster said quietly. "Arthur, Remus—you can accompany them."

From his seat, Blaise sneered. Hermione was thinking along the same lines as him—Dumbledore didn't want anyone to know of his past conducts; deeds that tore one family a part and led to the murder of two others.

The anger she felt was not only Cantrell's now, but a combination of his, Blaise's and her own.

"Harry, now please," said Dumbledore. Harry looked ready to retort but Hermione quickly shook her head, to stop whatever profanity was going to escape out of his mouth. He gritted his teeth and motioned them to the door without a word.

Hermione eased back into her seat as the door closed behind them. Under the table, she grabbed Blaise's hand—his anxious leg stopped shaking.

"I know you may be upset with me Alexandros," Dumbledore started. "But I am truly happy to see that you're alive and well. Is Mya—"

"Sadly, no." There was no sadness or pain in Cantrell's words. He was doing so well at controlling his emotions. She was both proud and surprised-when it came to Mya, Hermione thought he had no control over himself. But she was wrong; he looked perfectly at peace, although inwardly she was sure his blood was boiling.

"I am sorry to hear that."

Cantrell leaned back into his seat. The chairs were far from comfortable but he looked so much at ease you would think he was sitting on the best polyurethane foam money could buy. "I'm not here to discuss the past Albus. I'm here to discuss the present and my demands for the future."

Hermione and Blaise shared a look. Demands?

"Demands?" Dumbledore repeated.

Cantrell smiled, folding his hands on the table. "Yes. I'll start by reintroducing you to my family: Nathaniel Alexandros Cantrell and Isabel Harmony Cantrell—or as you know them, Blaise and Hermione."

Dumbledore didn't even spare them a glance. "So you've told them?"

Fury blared again, and a frown grew on Cantrell's face. "Considering the death of both of their adoptive parents, I couldn't and wouldn't leave them alone. And, I refuse to lie to them since I myself never much liked liars. Mya was always better at sniffing them out then I was." Cantrell said, momentarily losing it and glaring at the wizard across from him. "They know, _everything._ "

At the last of Cantrell's words, Dumbledore finally met Blaise and Hermione's gaze, looking for it. Looking for a sign that they were still loyal to him, that _she_ still admired and respected their great headmaster. But he couldn't find it—he couldn't find it beneath the glare in their eyes and he couldn't find it in their conjoined hands.

"We know everything." Blaise ensured, who looked at Dumbledore with nothing but disgust. His eyes turned dark the moment they stepped into the house. "I know what you did to me and what you took from my family…what you took from Mya."

Dumbledore sighed, "Mr. Zabini.—"

"It's Cantrell." Blaise corrected. Hermione was surprised at the strength behind his words but didn't let it show. He tightened his grip in her hand and that's when she realized what he was doing; he was presenting a united front so that they looked impenetrable in Dumbledore's eyes. A new, yet powerful Cantrell family—a union that scared Voldemort in the past and presently unsettled Dumbledore too. "No matter how hard you tried to take that away from me Dumbledore, I _am_ a Cantrell."

"There's a lot you don't understand." Dumbledore tried.

"You're actions speak louder than your words, Albus." Cantrell said.

"I did what I had to do for the Wizarding World, for the Light-"

"We're going to need a better explanation then that." Hermione countered. Her tone was slightly hostile but nothing too harsh. Dumbledore's sadden demeanor in response to it didn't go unnoticed.

"Yes," He continued. "There were consequences—"

Cantrell stood up, no longer able to control his anger. "Consequences that my family— _my son_ —shouldn't have to pay for."

Dumbledore's eyes went back to Blaise, trailing to the marked forearm that was currently covered. "So it's true—"

"My first demand." Cantrell quickly interrupted. "Is for my son's life to be protected by the Order. As a Death Eater he will be forced to attend raids and fight against you. I need you to promise me that if that situation arises, my son is protected and left uninjured."

"Will he become a spy?" At the question, Blaise's leg began to shack again. For the second time Dumbledore's eyes found him. "Will you?"

Before Blaise could respond, Cantrell rested a hand on his arm to stop him. _Don't answer, let me lead._ "Whether he will or not, I still need you to swear on your magic that no matter what he chooses, he will be saved."

"I can't make that promise nor can I agree to any other of the requests you make."

Before Cantrell could curse their head master, or worse, Dumbledore raised what was supposed to be a hand but looked like angry gray skin fragile enough to turn into ashes—it looked even worse than what Harry described. It looked like it was consumed by a curse, a strong one…but constrained to his hand? Did it hinder his magic? Was that why he couldn't protect Blaise? She looked at Cantrell, who looked at Dumbledore with sudden understanding and pity…

Hermione inwardly gasped. Dumbledore was _dying_.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Unfortunately, too soon after your death Voldemort found out news that took the focus away from your family." He looked meaningfully at Hermione and she knew exactly what he was going to say. "This war isn't about you or your family's survival. This a war is about Mr. Potter. This war is about _his survival_. For if he succeeds, you family will be safe. Everyone will be safe."

Cantrell leaned back in to his seat, taking Dumbledore's words in stride. He remained silent and Hermione was sure he was waiting for Dumbledore to explain further, and he did so in kind. "There's a lot you missed. I will kindly update you and maybe you can help but I will not speak of secrets in front of a possible spy who isn't a skilled Occlumens…yet."

Curiosity killed the cat, and Dumbledore had definitely offered bait that they all fell for.

A small nod in their direction from Cantrell and they both stood up, knowing Dumbledore would stick to his promise and not utter a word unless they were gone.

Before they walked through the doors Hermione turned around. Dumbledore back was facing her but she wasn't looking for his face-it was easier that way. "Your lies will catch up to you Headmaster, along with the guilt that hangs with every word that you utter. When's you're gone, I hope you're remembered by the great things you accomplished and not the deceitful man that tries to hide behind those same successes."

She then turned on her heel and walked out the door with her brother, leaving Cantrell to deal with their disheartened headmaster.

Out in the hall, she wasn't very surprised to find Harry waiting for her.

"Should I ask now," he started, then his eyes trailed to Blaise. "Or later?"

A muscle in Blaise's cheek twitched and she felt his irritation. He did not need Harry's snarky comment, not after the meeting they just endured.

"Harry, you should've met me at the Burrow."

He looked at her incredulously. "You think I'll leave your here alone with the likes of him," he said giving Blaise a dirty looked, "And that strange man in there after losing you for two-weeks?"

"The _likes of me_? What are you saying Potter?" Blaise immediately questioned, his voice barely concealing his anger.

"Foul, evil, corrupted." Harry listed.

Blaise took a step forward and Hermione held him back. "For _her_ sake, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." He said icily.

Hermione sighed, giving Harry a pleading look. "Harry just go before things get worse. I'll meet you at the burrow." He hesitated but eventually walked away and into a room with the nearest Floo, leaving Hermione and Blaise alone.

"You're not going to tell him _everything_ are you?" Blaise asked.

"Not everything. A witch should always know when to withhold certain truths." She said a small smile.

"Spoken like a true Cantrell princess."

Hermione laughed.

Blaise squeezed her shoulder, "we'll talk later."

"Agreed." She affirmed. There was too much said for them not to discuss.

* * *

Hermione saw glimpses of family households, before landing firmly in the familiar Weasley kitchen. When she finally stop sneezing and coughing she looked up to see most of the Weasley's standing around with big smiles. She hugged everyone – Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, Mrs. Weasley (again) and Ginny. Ron was nowhere to be seen and she was grateful. No one asked her where she was or what she was doing since her disappearance, or whereabouts. Hermione guessed that either Mrs. Weasley or Harry told them to back off the questions.

She excused herself after about half an hour of shared jokes from Fred and George. She almost forgot Malfoy, Pansy and Blaise were in the house. When she entered the common room she found all three of them sitting with Tonks, who was listening intently to Pansy. Harry stood off in the far corner. Not close enough to hear, but close enough to stop any fights from happening. Hermione sighed as she neared him.

"Harry, they're not going to light the house on fire."

He shrugged. "Why are you so convinced they won't?"

"I just am Harry." She said tiredly. He looked at her for a long time before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his chest.

It was the hug she loved from the moment they became friends. It was the hug that she needed when she overheard him and Ron on the Hogwarts Express. The hug she needed when her parents told her she was not their birth child. The hug she needed after finding out Blaise was a death eater. The hug she needed when she felt so alone and lost in the big mansion. The hug she needed when she was standing outside the remains of her home with no hope in her heart. The hug she needed when she saw her biological father. And finally it was the hug that made her break down and cry into his shoulder.

She cried silently, trying hard not to bring attention to herself. Harry rubbed her back soothingly then slowly guided her up the stairs to his shared room with Ron. When she was in the privacy of the room her tears fell harder and transformed into loud sobs.

Harry didn't say a word. He understood she needed release from the happy façade she had been keeping the last few weeks. He tried to calm her down and gradually her loud sobs turned into silent tears. When she finally stopped crying and her breaths came in prolonged hiccups, Harry was resting his back against the headboard of the bed with his legs outstretched before him. Hermione curled up into a small ball with her head to his chest.

"Better?" He asked quietly. Hermione nodded into his chest.

"A bit." She cleared her throat trying to rid the hoarseness of it.

"Do you want to talk?"

Hermione nodded again and began on her very long story. She started with her parent's weird behavior after picking her up at the station, and ended with their arrival at the Order. She told him about the infamous Cantrell, without the mention of how or why they were murdered. She told him about Blaise being her twin (which he gasped at), her friendship with Pansy (without mentioning anything involving her father) and how Draco proved to her he wasn't a death eater. She didn't tell him, however, that Blaise was in fact a death eater and that he also had powerful magic. She didn't tell him about Cantrell's either.

She told him about the pain she has felt in her chest since the death of her parents. Then, rather hesitantly, she told him about her Cantrell Magic. She told him about her ability to feel others and how that ability will get greater with time.

To say she felt a weight was lifted off her shoulders when she finished talking, was an understatement.

"So that man I saw back at the Headquarters, is actually your dad?"

"Yes."

"And Blaise Zabini is you brother?"

"Yes Harry."

"And you can read my mind?"

"Not yet but I will, hopefully."

"And Malfoy _isn't_ a death eater?"

"No, he isn't. Has he been here recently? At the Headquarters, I mean." Hermione asked curiously.

"Yes, almost every day. No one has commented on it yet, whatever he's doing, it's being kept very under wraps. He's usually with Dumbledore. Since the accident in the Astronomy Tower I thought he was training him to become a spy for the Order but now that you say he's not a death eater… I wonder what Dumbledore is actually doing with him."

Hermione took in this new found information and told him about the argument between Malfoy and Pansy. But all Harry saw was that she was spending too much time with Slytherins.

"Harry you're forgetting that if it wasn't for Blaise, I doubt I would've made it through the last two weeks. You might not have been there but... he was." Her voice softened as she finished her sentence, feeling his guilt build when she said Blaise's name. Hermione lightly touched his shoulder and waited for his eyes to meet hers. "I know you're thinking that they turned me away from you but trust me they haven't. Pansy actually pushed me to talk to you and Blaise is just iffy about you because of the whole-"

"Ron thing, yeah I realized when he looked like he was just about to punch me back at the Headquarters." He laughed but Hermione didn't find it funny considering that was Blaise's intention.

"I don't blame you for anything and I don't care anymore." Hermione sighed, remembering the incident on the train. "It's not like we were together. Yeah, we were headed there but… I was more hurt at the fact that you guys were lying to me. It's _us_ you know? It's always been me, you and Ron. And it will always be us. We don't lie to each other. I didn't deserve that."

Harry leaned his head back against the board. "I'm so sorry Hermione."

"It's okay," She smiled. "We have a lot of bigger things to worry about."

"Yeah, to think you were off finding your father and I was here, playing wizards chest."

"You _were_?" She accused jokingly. His head snapped back up.

"We'll of course I was looking for you Herms, but then Dumbledore told us not to-"

"I'm joking Harry." She said with a small chuckle. "And stop calling me that!" He laughed and pushed her away. Hermione did the same but he ended up falling off the bed and landed with a big thud. She went to the edge of the bed, looked at him and laughed.

His green eyes glared at her playfully.

"You'll pay for that Grang-" He stopped mid-sentence because the door of the room creaked open and Ron Weasley stood at the doorway. The red head looked at Hermione and then at Harry who was still on the floor. He stared at them and muttered, "Mum sent me up to see if everything was ok."

Harry got up and chuckled. "I'm fine, just fighting with Hermione – literally." Hermione laughed as Harry threw a pillow that missed.

Ron remained silent and looked around the room awkwardly.

"Hermione-" Ron started but was interrupted by loud footsteps. Her twin come into the room and shoved past Ron. His eye were their original bright hazel color now. She missed them.

"Andy wants us back at the Order place." Blaise told her. With Ron glaring at him, Blaise winked inconspicuously at her and smirked.

"Problem Weasley?"

Of course Ron's face immediately went red. "You're not going to call me that in my own house Zabini or -"

"Or what _weasel_? You're going to embarrass yourself and _try_ to jinxing me?"

Hermione quickly stepped between them just as Ron took a step forward, her wand pointed towards.

Ron's eyes widened in disbelief. "H-Hermione! You're taking _his_ side?!"

She rolled her eyes.

"Obviously Weasley!" Blaise laughed behind her and Ron stepped up again before being pushed back by Harry.

Hermione elbowed him, "you're not helping Blaise!" His response was a groan of pain.

"Ron please calm down-" Harry tried to say.

"NO! I'm not going to calm down! Why are you taking his side? Are you two-dating?"

Hermione grimaced in disgust. "No, we're not Ron. That's just disgusting."

"Your flatter me Hermione." Blaise said sarcastically.

They heard loud thumping and Mrs. Weasley came in with her hands to her hips. With one look at the situation she immediately turned her angry eyes to her son.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Everyone put their heads down in shame except for Blaise, who quickly took advantage of the situation.

"Well Mrs. Weasley, I came up here to get Hermione and Ronald-" He stopped to glare at Ron for effect. "-just can't seem to let old prejudices go."

Mrs. Weasley grabbed Ron by the ear, who yelped in pain, and pulled him out the room.

"Every time we have visitors you have to act up don't you! Every time!" She repeated while dragging him out and down the stairs.

"But mum-!"

"Don't start Ronald! Blaise, my dear, would you follow me? Pansy has been asking for you and she's become very impatient."

Harry sighed in relief of not getting in trouble

Blaise nodded and followed Mrs. Weasley but not before playfully shoving Hermione out the way. Hermione laughed quietly.

She took a seat on the bed again, Harry following her. There was a long comfortable silence, which was another thing she missed; there were no awkward moments with Harry.

"That was quite a show." He commented. She laughed. "He seems nice… well to you anyways."

"He is Harry… well to me anyways." She repeated jokingly.

He smiled tightly-there was a serious look about him now. "You haven't told me how you've been holding up lately?" His voice was full of concern.

"I've been better," She smiled, an honest smile. "Better than the end. There's that pain, you know, in my chest and I still have nightmares. But…believe it or not Blaise and Pansy have been encouraging me to see my parent's death as the end of the world... but the beginning." Hermione finished softly. Harry looked at her thoughtfully, opened his mouth once then closed it back up.

"What Harry?"

"Nothing-it's just… It wasn't me who helped you. After everything you've done for me Hermione, I feel as if I should've been there… as you have always been there for me countless times." Hermione remained silent, not knowing what to say. Malfoy said along the same words just the other day. Coming out of Harry's mouth it sounded less vicious but it still hurt all the same

"Harry it wasn't your fault. I'm sure you would've been there for me every day, hour and minute, but I was nowhere to be found remember?" She gave him a shaky smile. "Just promise me…not more secrets, no more lies. Even if you think you're saving me a heartache."

"I promise, just as long as you promise not to find long last family members before telling me." He joked. Hermione laughed then stood off the bed, feeling lighter then she had in weeks.

"I promise. Now get up Potter before the whole Order thinks I kidnapped The-Chosen-One."


	12. Chapter 12

**The Secret**

**Part One:** **Pretense**

**Chapter Twelve**

SM <3

* * *

About ten minutes after Harry and Hermione went down to the kitchen, Mr. Weasley called them all to the headquarters. They waited in the common room until the adults were called in. Mrs. Weasley gave them a fair warning to not start a fight and left them in a very tense silence.

Malfoy, Blaise and Pansy sat on the couch. None of them spoke to the other, each too preoccupied with they're town thoughts to notice who they shared the room with. Ron and Ginny were off in a corner with a chess board sitting between them. Harry, who was sitting beside Hermione, kept glancing at them furtively and fidgeting in his seat, obviously very uncomfortable about being the middleman.

"Why don't you ahead inside with them I'll meet you in a bit?"

Harry nodded "You know what to do. If they have changed, this should be easy." He kissed the top of her head, whispered good luck and pulled Ron ad Ginny through the doors.

Hermione turned to the uncomfortable trio, to find Draco's eyes already trained on her.

She raised an eyebrow at him in response and as she made her way over to them, a frown quickly grew on his face. "Back to us now Grander?" He sneered.

Pansy nudged him hard. "Shut up Draco, before I open my big mouth again." Malfoy gave her a look, while Blaise stayed uncharacteristically silent.

Hermione plopped herself between him and Pansy.

"What's wrong bro?" She teased. His mouth twitched but the frown remained. "What happened with Tonks?"

Hermione heard Malfoy preform a quick privacy bubble. Pansy took a deep breath and began picking at her nail polish, "She basically told me that there's a possibility that my father—might-that Voldemort—"

"Mr. Parkinson hasn't been seen in the last six days…There's a possibility that Voldemort might've killed him already." Blaise finished for her. His worried expression fixed on Pansy's face, which remained unreadable.

"But I thought you _wanted_ Voldemort to—"

She laughed with no humor. "I didn't mean it Granger; it was naive of you to believe me."

"You sounded very convincing." Hermione defended.

"I know!" Pansy shrieked, startling the three of them. She took another deep breath to calm herself. "I know. I did and it was foolish of me. I guess I saw that possibility but didn't actually think it would…I'm just…frustrated. This is all very difficult to wrap my head around."

Hermione wanted to comfort her, but she hesitated. None of the three really looked like the type that liked to be touched when emotional, so Hermione kept her hands to herself.

"B-but there's the possibility that he's just hiding out in the Manor or our summer home in France, or our vacation home in Greece... My father's death would've been all over the Prophet if he was in fact murdered..." She smiled sadly. Whether Mr. Parkinson was dead or alive, and Pansy did win her case and got away with it all, in his eyes, she would be good as dead. Pansy had finally come to terms with that. Hermione saw it in her eyes—she was already morning the loss of her father.

"So what now? Is someone going to check the manor?"

"Yes, a week from now. They need me to go because I'll have access to the wards, but I'll be under the protection of aurors."

Malfoy snorted. "You don't need assistance of aurors, I can easily accompany you. Your dad knows me. If you bring aurors and he'll think he's being attacked."

"I appreciate your support Draco, but considering your circumstances, that wouldn't be the best idea." Pansy reached to pat his hand but he looked away from her, dissatisfied. There was something they weren't telling her and Hermione desperately wanted to know. She made a note to ask Pansy, privately.

"I-I think it would be best if I accompany you Pans. I mean, your dad knows I'm, you know, one of his men…he'll be more trusting." Blaise volunteered. He sounded hesitant. If he did this for Pansy it would mean he would have to put his life in danger and work with the Order.

"Maybe…" Pansy replied. "I'll talk to Tonks about it. But you'll have to be prepared to sacrifice yourself for these people Blaise…you'll have to join this cause…o-our side." She reached to hold Hermione's hand, to confirm that she was finally picking a side. The light side. She was choosing to fight against her father... Hermione finally understood why it was so hard to for them to finally make that decision; switching sides meant going against everything they were raised to believe in. To go against their family, friends and loved ones.

There was no returning from it.

"I know this is hard for all of you. B-but I need to know where your loyalties lie. Cantrell will be working with the Order and I will not allow for him, myself or anyone else in this house to be put in danger due to your inability to choose a side. I need to know you aren't a follower of Voldemort nor his ideologies." Hermione said, her eyes moving from Blaise, to Pansy to Malfoy, who didn't appear to be acknowledging her but she was knew he was listening. "Before we go into that meeting they will ask me where the three of you stand…and I will have to give them an answer."

Pansy gave her hand a firm squeeze, "I'm in."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "I'm already working with the Order Granger, but I'm sure you figured that out already."

Hermione merely nodded in confirmation then looked expectedly at Blaise, who had his head in his hands.

"Blaise, you can help us. You would just need proper guidance and training. I am sure Cantrell will help you."

"I'll help you." Malfoy said, completely surprising Hermione but she didn't let it show. Instead she smiled at him then looked at Blaise. She could see the fear in his eyes, the hesitation. But then he glanced at Pansy's and Hermione's joined hands...his eyes hardened and his jaw clenched in determination.

"I'm in." He said confidently. "You guys are all I have left… I'll fight for you. I'll fight with you."

Pansy shrieked in happiness and pulled the booth of them in a group hug. Hermione found herself laughing, relief washing over her.

"Get in here Draco!"

Malfoy gave them a disgusted look, "No thanks."

Just then the door opened up and Lupin stood at the door, seeking confirmation from Hermione.

Hermione grinned, "We're ready Professor."

* * *

Most of the Order was present at the table: Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore, Cantrell, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, Lupin and couple other new and old members. Hermione found herself surprised at the amount of people in the room. She didn't know they had so many followers; so many brave and trusting individuals united to fight the same cause. She felt a sense of pride as she made her way across the room to sit next to Cantrell.

"Now that we are all present I would like to welcome back Ms. Hermione Granger. We are all very glad that you have returned to us, safe and sound." Dumbledore stated with a smile. Everyone clapped and some came around to give her a hug.

"As you can see we have new members with us today that will be working with us on different issues. Welcome please Ms. Pansy Parkinson, Mr. Blaise Zabini and I would like to give a formal welcome to Mr. Draco Malfoy." There was less clapping and more whispers. Hermione patted Blaise's hand, showing everyone that she supported this decision.

"Lastly, I would like to welcome back Mr. Alexandros Cantrell." Cantrell smiled and his welcoming was acknowledged by even louder murmurs and demanding questions.

"Where'd he come from?"

"How is he alive?"

"Is he going to contribute?"

"More importantly Dumbledore, tell us why he is back." Everyone turned to look at Kingsley, who was silently observing Cantrell. Feeling her stare, he moved his gaze to Hermione and Blaise. Understanding flashed behind his eyes.

"Good question Kingsley. Alexandros-"

"I've got it Albus, Thank you." Cantrell stood up and Dumbledore remained silent. Whatever they discussed in their absence did nothing to mend their relationship. Dumbledore conceded and gave Cantrell the floor.

"The older generation knows me enough, so I guess this introduction should serve more for the new, and younger members." He glanced over at Harry, an easy smile on his face. "My name is Alexandros Bryant Cantrell. Heir to the Ancient and Nobel House of Cantrell, founding family of the International Confederation of Wizards and MACUSA and Secondary Seat holder to the Magical Ministries in Cairo and Burkinabe." His introduction alone was enough to silence the room. "My family has come from a long line distinguished witches and wizards. We have been respected and admired in the Wizarding World for many centuries, something I will always be proud to say." Cantrell walked around the wide table and Hermione couldn't help but observe how people moved a step back when he passed them; their eyes full admiration and respect.

"You're not answering Kingsley's question Cantrell." Moody grunted from his corner. Cantrell didn't say a word as he finished making his way around the table, stopping behind Hermione and Blaise.

She knew what was coming now and couldn't help but feel anxious and uncomfortable with the attention that was suddenly on her. Cantrell was going to tell a room full of Order members-her friends and family- that she wasn't Hermione Granger. He was going to tell them that she was Isabella Cantrell, heiress the most powerful and respected family in the Wizarding World. Insecurity and doubt filled her thoughts. Would it change how they looked at her? She almost jumped up to tell Cantrell to stop but fear kept her rooted in her seat, counting the small lines on the table beneath her hands. In efforts to not look intimidated by the attention, she looked up to find the gray eyes of Draco Malfoy staring back at her. His was so poised and calm. She found herself grabbing on to his calmness, wrapping herself in it to calm her own nerves, never once letting go of his gaze, just as she did in Blaise's room earlier that day.

And it worked.

He then made a motion with his head, silently telling her to lift her chin up and she obliged, oddly finding confidence in his support.

"Sixteen years ago I was declared died by Voldemort and his followers but I survived... and I've come back for my family; Isabelle and Nathanial, you may also know them as Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini." Malfoy looked away and the calmness she felt was instantly gone. Silent disbelief and astonishment stilled the room for a good three minutes before people came to their senses and shouts of questions and accusations roared from all corners of the room. Many different emotions spewed into the air, and they all slammed into her in unrelenting force. It pushed and teared at her core, at her magic and immediately felt a piercing pain that started from her head then swooped down to her stomach, forcing her to close her eyes at the pain.

But as soon as it came, it was gone when a hand rest on her shoulder. Silence resonated around her and the pain was gone. No pressure, only pure silence. Hermione looked at Cantrell and found it was his hand on her shoulder.

"How is that possible?!"

"Dark Magic! Dark Magic!"

"Lies!"

"How do we know he's not an imposter?"

"He comes back from the dead and now this?! Lies!"

She met Blaise's eye and practically read his mind; _I want to leave._

Cantrell opened his mouth to address them and the room fell back into silence, "It is getting late and we have had a long day. I will not, _we_ will not, entertain ill-mannered and imprudent thoughts." His tone was angry, yet controlled and authoritative. "The Order of Phoenix has always been known as a united and trusting organization, with strong, smart and brave individuals. As someone who assisted a lot of you and lost a great amount in the first wars and I asking you to please respect my wishes and keep what I shared with you amongst yourselves. Goodnight to you all."

Malfoy and Pansy quickly rose from their seats as Cantrell took his hand off her shoulder and politely pulled out her chair, beckoning her and Blaise to make their way toward the exit. They left behind a room of ashamed eyes and confused whispers.

* * *

Once they returned to the cottage, Hermione raced to her bedroom not wanting to be bothered. But that didn't last very long. Half an hour later, Pansy stood at her door.

"Can I come in?" She asked. She stood at her doorway, her hair piled up in a messy bun at the top of her head with a pair of oversized pajamas, making her look very small. "It's too quiet in my room and I could do with some company." Pansy explained as she sat at the end of her bed.

"Help yourself." Hermione threw her a pillow and she fixed a space for herself to lay down. Hermione at the head of her bed and Pansy at the foot.

After a peaceful silence Hermione spoke up, "Pansy, you know I never suspected you as being so… strong."

A pause.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, with everything going on with your dad and after your mother ... How is your spirit still so strong? One look at you, and one would never suspect you are going through so much."

"That's a loaded question."

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Pansy sighed deeply. "It's okay. But I guess…my parents have always taught me to be independent. Well my mother mostly. She didn't like the idea of me relaying on her so much when anything could happen at a given time. She would say thing like, 'what happens if we run out of money?' or 'what if we die?' she didn't mean it literally but sadly, that's what happened.

"You were very close to your family Hermione, I can tell. Purebloods, at least those that are aligned with You-Know-Who, force their children to grown up at a very young age. We pretty much raise ourselves but I guess, in my case, it has worked in my favor. I'm not saying my parents were bad parents, my mother was wonderful but I always felt that she kept me at a distance...When she died though, I had Draco and Blaise beside. You on the other hand - didn't have anyone but Blaise, who you had just met about a few hours before. Trust me you're doing much better than others. Some don't move on from a death like that. Believe me when _I_ say that you're a very strong witch Hermione. My strength is nothing compared to yours." Pansy shifted in her spot and Hermione pondered her words.

"I have another question," Hermione hesitated.

"I don't know how many of these heart-to-hearts I can take for one night Granger-"

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "No it's not about that, it's about Malfoy." She wanted to ask about his relationship with the Order-what was he doing with them? Why was Dumbledore working so closely with him?

"Well Granger what do you want to know? He's seventeen, a Slytherin; He's been single since forever. He's a loner, mysterious but once you get to know him—'

"NO! No, Pansy not that way. _Never_ would it be that way."

Pansy sat up and looked at Hermione with suspicious eyes. "Well it didn't seem that way when you two locked eyes back at the Order."

"You caught that?" She asked in disbelief.

"I would be surprised if there was anyone in the room who _didn't_ catch that...it was intense." She paused. "If I didn't know you well enough, I would think-"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I remove my question from the offering table. Can we change the subject now?"

"Fine… But I'm just saying, you two are the perfect fit."

Hermione gagged and Pansy slapped her leg, laughing at her reaction.

"Enough of the theatrics Granger."

"As soon as you stop talking about things that give me nightmares."

"Whatever, Granger. I'll shut up but I bet you're wishing it was Draco in your bed instead of me-"

"Goodnight Pansy!"

"'Night Hermy."


	13. Chapter 13

**The Secret**

**Part One:** **Pretense**

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

"Just relax and keep a single thought in your head, preferably one that raises a strong emotion." Hermione suggested. She was currently sitting on the floor of Harry's room in Grimmauld Place. It had been a week since their first visit and since that time, she has visited four times. The Order members still hadn't gotten over the fact that Cantrell was alive, many of them regarding her with new found interest. In the four day she visited, she had numerous people attempt to catch her attention—some would even go as far as trying to persuade her to introduce them to Cantrell. It was becoming very irritating, so today when she arrived she marched straight up to Harry's room, avoiding any and all questions and request.

"I think you should move closer Hermione." Harry suggested. He was sitting on the other side of the room, a weird, doubtful look about him.

"No! I can do this."

"But don't you think-"

"Harry! Shush, just think." He choose to not anger her any further and remained silent. Hermione put all her focus on him with her eyes closed. She tried to get a feeling, a thought, and emotion but nothing was coming to her.

She cracked an eye open. "What are you thinking right now?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded.

"Nothing."

Hermione groaned in exasperation and Harry laughed. He walked to where she was seated and patted her back.

"Don't you think you're pushing it to hard?"

"No, I should be able to do this."

"Why not just wait until Cantrell gives you the full power-"

"Because Harry," She started, in voice that Harry and Ron called her "know-it-all" voice. "It would be better to perfect the little I have now so I can be stronger. I've felt that magic before…" She said, remembering the strong stroke of peacefulness that resonated over her just a week ago. With Malfoy of all people, _again_. But she wasn't going to tell Harry that. He _just_ started getting use to the idea of her and Blaise being related. Telling him that her magical prowess is ignited by Draco Malfoy would be a bit too much. "I just don't know why it isn't working now."

There was a brief silence.

"Okay Herms, try again. You can do this." He went back over to his spot and she smiled gratefully at him.

"Ready."

Hermione took a deep breath, blocked out everything around her and focusing her attention on Harry. She felt the air around them change, emotions escaped him and reached out to Hermione, slowly and reluctantly

"Do you feel anything-?"

Hermione shushed him. This time she closed her eyes and focused harder. With her eyes closed, his emptions became stronger and was able to grasp them. She let them wrap itself around her and settle into her so she read through them—identify them. She felt the bright emotions of happiness, contention and then a sudden feeling…a dark web of hidden motions. When she opened her eyes she felt his emotions embedded themselves into her, as if they were her very own. Harry looked calm and happy, yet simultaneously the dark web held…fear. Hermione closed her eyes again and tried to focus on it, drawing it out to the center of her magical core. She tried clawing at it, but matter how hard she tried it, it didn't break or tear; it was too strong, and too developed for her weak magic.

She found her limitation

"I did it." Hermione whispered.

Harry looked at her with one eye open.

"Harry at least _try_ to look interested." She joked.

"I'm sorry." He stood up and sat beside her again. They feel into a silence that couldn't be defined as peaceful – there was something hanging in the air.

"Don't you want to ask?" Hermione demanded. He gave her a side glance then took out his wand and started playing with it.

"You–did you just do it again?"

"No, I just know you well." She paused. "What's bothering you?" Hermione waited for him to answer but he just kept flipping the wand into the air.

"It depends… What did you see?"

"I didn't exactly _see_ anything." She chose her words carefully. "I don't see really, I feel and grab on to whatever I can…It isn't mind reading per say more like … mood reading." She laughed at her silliness but he remained quiet, so she continued. "I felt…peace and happiness…" He stopped throwing the wand, then looked at her, his green eyes full of interest. "But I felt…fear...I couldn't really read into it. It—y-you keep it very protected, and it's…been there a while. It's very dominating. Over your mind...and your magic." At that, he looked away from her.

They fell into another heavy silence.

"Harry, I'm sorry for pushing you to do this" She blurted out, as she began to feel a bit guilty. "I should've been more understanding-"

"Hermione!" He called calmly, shutting her up. "Don't worry, it just-"

"I know you don't like opening up to people, let alone letting someone read your mind but I won't tell anyone, I promise-" She stopped when he started to chuckle.

"Hermione I can trust you with anything and everything. What's really bothering me is that someone else knows what is in my head other than me… It's a bit strange, because my mind…It can be…a very dark place, if I allow that very same darkness that you described, take over my every thought and emotion." He said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"Harry…" She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. "You have every right to be scared of what is out there but don't think we – your friends and family - are not going to let that evil _monster_ get you. We are going to fight long and hard and we are going to win so that everyone in the Wizarding World can live without the fear that has been present in their lives for so many long, tiring years." She whispered.

"What makes you so sure we are going to win this war?" His shaky tone exposed to her just how scared he was about the approaching war. She suddenly felt very sorry for her best friend. His whole life he had been surrounded by an evil that not on followed him externally but also kept a presence in his mind and threatened his sanity.

"We are going to win this war because we have the brightest mind on our side; me." She said sweetly and he chuckled. "And we have you Harry, the bravest person I know."

He signed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. "How about Cantrell? Where does he fall in this war?"

Hermione touched her locket. "I think… the light side is going to benefit from having him. I don't know what his full potential is… or his strengths but...we can trust him."

* * *

It was later that night that Hermione found herself standing by the wide window of the library in the Cantrell cottage. Darkness went on for miles and miles, the only light came from the full moon high in the air. She wondered where the cottage was located; there was no proof of muggle technology, no telephones lines, or roadways. It was an uncanny isolated location; every time she was back in the cottage she felt like a hermit. A cowardly hermit.

Hermione sighed and crumbled the parchment she had in her hand into a small ball. Cantrell left her a note saying he had to leave due to an emergency with the Order, so she was left alone. Pansy was off drafting some legal papers to be approved by the executive board of her mother's company; the board's approval came first, then her fathers, then everything could be hers. That morning, Pansy had left with Blaise, fairly confident in the fact that the board would be welcoming to the idea of her becoming their new boss.

Malfoy also went out earlier that morning with Dumbledore and she didn't know when he was supposed to get back. She would've stayed at the Order but Harry promised Ron a duel session, didn't want Harry to play the middleman again, so she left.

Once she arrived at the cottage, and the silence engulfed her. Hermione realized that being left alone did her no good. Her thoughts were all over the place, drifting to the war, the first day back to Hogwarts, her parents…

Maybe she should've stayed at the Headquarters… But how was she supposed to go back? Cantrell wasn't there, and she would need his permission to leave again. She groaned and sat down in defeat. What was Cantrell doing that was so import-

Hermione stopped her train of thought at the sound a creak in the floors. She sat up, waiting to hear it again, her wand tightly wrapped in her hand.

"Granger?" A voice called from behind her. Hermione didn't remember if she screamed or not. All she knew was that she jumped out of the chair, to point her wand at the perpetrator, only to trip over the coffee table and land on the floor. She found herself face-to-face with the muddy boots of Draco Malfoy.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that Malfoy." She said after standing up for the floor. She lifted her chin and sat back in her seat, all the while trying to ignore his low chuckles.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so paranoid," he said. "Or unguarded."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up. "Excuse me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Granger, we may be in the middle of nowhere, but there's still a war going on. You should've hexed me the moment you suspected someone was in the room with you."

She chose to ignore him, focusing instead on calming her heart from the fright. He laughed at her lack of response and disappeared between the bookshelves. Hermione tried reading her own book but found that she couldn't focus with Malfoy lurking.

When he finally reappeared he was holding a thick book and when he sat across from her she caught the title; Magical Transportation. Was he still looking up facts on the locket?

"You know Malfoy; you don't have to research the locket. I can-"

He sneered. "I'm not searching for your benefit Granger. The information is for me."

Right. Because Draco Malfoy never helped others. He's all about himself. How could she forget.

Either way she wanted to know why he was looking at the book. It _was_ her business. Technically it was _her_ library. Anything that went on in _her_ library, with _her_ books, was _her_ business; _right?_ Plus, maybe she could find out what he was doing with Dumbledore.

"What are you researching then?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

She hesitated, "maybe I can help."

He looked up from his book with a raised eyebrow but said nothing.

Maybe being stuck in such a quiet and lonely house was getting to her. She shook it off and picked up her book.

"Do you know anything about untraceable apparition?" Malfoy asked her after five minutes of silence. Hermione remained silent.

"Granger."

She smirked from behind her book.

"Well, well-" She started taunting.

"Don't make me regret asking you."

Hermione frowned and carefully weighed her answer "I'll tell you on one condition; you tell me why you've been with Dumbledore for the past couple weeks."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. He knew it was a lose-win situation. He obviously couldn't find anything in the books and she was his only way to answers. But now he had to choose; was his secret more important than an answer?

"That's not a fair trade."

"Fine, you'll only spend another 5 hours looking for answers to a questions I most likely know the answer to—"

"Fine." He said hesitantly. "You first."

She closed her book and sat up in her seat.

"Where you decide to go with apparition is never traced, so long as you are over the age of seventeen. In some cases, there is the possibility that the ministry may try to trace your magic to your destination. Which, in your case, is very likely considering the incident in the astronomy tower." She pause to gage his reaction, but there was none. "Untraceable apparition, in itself is possible but it's very dangerous. You can splinch yourself in the process of doing so and because it is in fact illegal. Many consider the practice of untraceable apparition dark magic." She finished and leaned back in her seat. Malfoy remained silent and stared down at the book.

"It's your turn." The witch reminded him.

Malfoy racked a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh, "I meet with Dumbledore," Finally turning his attention to her. "About every day, whenever he's free. It's not because he makes me, but because I choose to." He paused.

"What does he have-?"

"My mother." He said it so quietly she thought she heard wrong.

"What?"

Malfoy raised his head and his eyes locked with hers, "Dumbledore is keeping my mother in hiding from Voldemort and Lucius."

Lucius. Not dad. Or father.

There was a long moment of silence as Hermione tried to wrap her mind around the new information. What did that mean? What did Mrs. Malfoy do to anger Voldemort and why was Dumbledore helping them?

"I know you have questions Granger." His gaze now on the window. She felt his anger, his frustration. He didn't want pity and she knew better than to give it.

"I didn't think you'll answer them" She carefully responded.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Try me."

Hermione looked at him. Why was he willing to share? She voiced her thoughts but he didn't answer. "Honestly Malfoy what do you want? Why are you squandering your time-?"

The wizard stood up and walked towards the window. Maybe in efforts to disguise his thoughts, or maybe to hide from hers. "Simple, I need help."

Hermione remained silent, surprised at his words. "Blaise or Pansy-?"

"They know, but they can't help me… Besides they're busy with their own things."

Silence.

"Why me?" She asked meekly.

He gestured to the room. "Do you see anyone else around? And it's not like you're occupied with anything else at the moment."

"Besides that! I know you could've found someone else, anyone else but _me_ Malfoy."

She watched as he stepped away from the window, walked towards her and took a seat on the coffee table in front of her.

"Granger you've been through things," His grey eyes looked almost sincere. They almost glowed in the surrounding darkness. "I'm not just talking about your parents. You've seen, been through, faced and witnessed things others would cry for days about." He said, barely above a whisper. "As much as it pains to say this, you're the smartest witch I know and I…I need your help." His tone sent goose bumps up her arms and she tried to shake it off before he noticed.

"Besides that, you're positively bored here and I know the curiosity is killing you." He smirked and she was back on familiar territory.

"Ok, say I was willing to help you. What would you ask of me?"

Malfoy pointed to her locket. "That."

"What do you want with my locket?" She instinctively moved her hand over it, covering it from his stare.

"Granger, what exactly do you know about that locket?"

"Only what you've told me the other day," She admitted.

"There's more." He got off the table, went to the bookshelf and grabbed one of the thick books. When he came back he handed it to her and conjured up a seat beside her. Hermione looked at the title; 'Ancient Artifacts of the Wizard World'. The same book that contained the picture of her locket, which he had also showed her a couple days ago.

"Is this the only copy of this book?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You seem to have prior knowledge about this book and the lockets. I doubt this is the first time you have come across it."

He frowned at her, "You're more observant then you let on."

She shrugged, "Thanks."

"I had the same book in my house, the Malfoy Manor. My family also has heirlooms that are passed down, so I've read this book a couple times growing up. This book will tell you more than any book would tell you about your locket. I think…the Cantrell Manor may have more books about it, more personal accounts, but we don't have that access right now. "

Hermione nodded and flipped through some of the pages

"Care to explain what it is that the book says?"

"As I said before, it's an ancient locket. Everyone knows that with old magical artifacts, comes old magic—powerful, unmalleable magic. Especially in the case of this locket which dates back to the eleven hundreds.

"That locket, like most heirlooms and magical artifacts, becomes a part of you the longer you keep it on. It slowly learns about you, what you keep dear, you're high and low points, who you trust, who are your enemies. Eventually when it becomes one with you, you can use the power that it holds. I probably said this before, but because you and Blaise have the same locket, you have a connection with him." He paused and looked down at the book. "You can transport yourself to places and gradually take others with you, without any spell or enchantment able to stop you—completely untraceable. That was how and why Cantrell used it to bring you to the manor."

Hermione looked through the book, searching for the information he just shared but it was easy to sum it all up. The locket not only held some of her magic but she could do certain things without the need of her wand. She could apparate without making a sound and nothing or no one could stand in the way of where her destination.

And that was what Malfoy wanted.

"You want me to take you to wherever your mom is being kept."

He nodded, "Took you long enough."

"Why do you want to do this? Dumbledore is already helping you-"

"I don't like leaving the fate of my mother in his hands. He has enough to be worried about...and I don't trust him"

"You and everybody else in this house." She mumbled mostly to herself, but humor behind his eyes told her he heard her too. "-And your mom… do you know where she is?"

"Of course I do Granger.

"Just asking because Dumbledore might be secret keeper-"

"I'm secret keeper and I'm willing to tell you where she is, if you take me there." He was making himself very vulnerable to her at the moment and she felt the rush that came with having control over someone in need of help. She quickly smacked it down...there was a lot that Malfoy didn't do, and asking for help was probably one of those things. The fact that he was willing to tell her about his mother, and even take her to where his mother was being kept, said a lot about how desperate he was to keeping her safe.

And once again, she was hit with another instance of Malfoy caring for someone that wasn't himself.

They remained silent for almost five moments, his eyes never wavering from hers.

"Fine." She said quietly.

He smiled. A smile, no smirk. It was small but a smile all the same. A smile directed to her. It was…unnerving.

"How do I know when the locket's – ready?"

Malfoy looked off to the door behind them, as if someone called his name.

"I don't know, it's something that only Cantrell can answer." And he got up.

Of course he was going to leave; the task he came in to do was complete.

He was walking towards the door when she stopped him.

"Malfoy, why didn't you just ask Blaise?"

He didn't turn around to answer but said, "Blaise's mind just isn't up to this yet."

She smiled.

He opened the door to leave but she called out, "Malfoy?"

He sighed loudly. "Yes, Granger?"

"You know you're going to have to trust me in order for this to work?"

There was a moment's pause.

"Yes."

* * *

Hermione was laying down in bed, it was just before midnight and she watching her patronus do laps around her room. After their conversation in the library, she decided to explore the rest of the cottage and found Malfoy nowhere in sight. All that civil talk probably wore him out.

She hadn't seen or heard from neither Blaise nor Pansy since earlier that morning and was beginning to worry. It shouldn't take a whole day to get some papers signed. She had a feeling they went to the Parkinson's manor on their own. It seemed like something the two of them would think up together.

There was suddenly a knock on her door. "Isabelle?" She couldn't help but roll her eyes-he was never going to call her by her preferred name.

"Yes?"

Cantrell slowly opened the door but remained at the doorway, respecting her space.

"How was your day?" He asked politely.

"Manageable. This place gets really creepy when you're by yourself." She stated and sat up.

"Try being here alone for almost sixteen years."

She looked away from him, not knowing what to say.

"Anyhow, can you meet me in the library, in about five minutes?"

She frowned, another trip to the library? What was up now? "Fine."

He smiled turned to close the door.

"Cantrell! Is Blaise here?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, he just arrived about five minutes ago."

She nodded and he closed the door fully that time.

Hermione got up, put the ancient artifacts book under her pillow and changed from her pajamas back into her jeans.

"Why do you look like you've just seen Voldemort petting a hippogriff?" Hermione jumped and turned around to find Blaise causally leaning against her door. A big smirk on his evil face.

"It wasn't Voldemort; more like Dumbledore doing two cartwheels and a back flip."

He laughed and shook his head.

"What are you doing here?"

"Cantrell said you were asking for me."

She rolled her eyes, "yeah right."

Blaise grinned. "Why would he lie about such things?"

Hermione shoved past him on her way out her room. "Maybe he thought he'll try his luck and start that 'Sibro' time.'"

"' _Start_? And I thought we were doing so well." He said as he dramatically shook his head.

"I guess you thought wrong little brother. Not very surprising."

"Just admit that you missed my little sister." He ruffled her hair as he caught up to her. She laughed and pushed him so he hit the opposite wall.

"Do you know why he asked us to come here?" She asked as a quick change of subject.

Blaise's face quickly grew somber. "I don't know but I feel sick every time he does."

They entered the library when she asked, "Why were you out for so long?"

"I'll tell you later-when we have more time." He said as Cantrell appeared from behind a rows of bookshelves.

"Follow me." Hermione and Blaise looked at each other before following the wizard. They didn't go far, only past two shelves, then they made a left and Hermione looked up to see a huge portrait of an elder man who she assumed was a part of the Cantrell family. He didn't look very much like Alexandros-he was thin, with frailly hair and a long head that was emphasized by his burgundy wizard's hat. His face was gaunt, but his eyes were an inviting shade of blue.

"You take after him." Blaise mumbled to her jokingly.

Ignoring him, Hermione turned her attention to Cantrell who stopped before the debatably miserable older man and whispered a few words. When it opened they climbed into what a small room with no windows, only walls fully covered with books from the floor to the ceiling. A single light came from a lamp sitting in the middle of the room on a small table, which had two seats on either side of it and a wooden podium, just a few feet in front of it.

"Take a seat," Cantrell said, pointing to the seats as he went to the one of corners of the room. He returned with one of the thickest and oldest looking books Hermione ever seen. It took everything in her to not walk over and peek over his shoulder.

"This book is called _Guide pour Sortilèges Puissants;_ Guide to Powerful Enchantments, written originally by Antoinette Cantrell in 1703. We consider it a family heirloom; it's the only copy in the world." He stroked the spine of the book, seemingly lost in a past memory. "If you haven't guessed by now I'm releasing your magic from the locket."

"I thought you were going to hold off?" Hermione asked. She was slightly suspicious about this sudden change of mind, noting that he just returned from an Order meeting.

"Change of plans."

Hermione and Blaise shared a look. "Care to explain?"

"There's…" He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "War," He said bluntly. "I thought I could possibly hold it off…but going to the Order meeting today…I do not trust some people on their team." He raised a hand up to stop Hermione, who quickly sat up to defend her friends. "It's just a feeling—they haven't done anything…yet, but the suspicion alone, was enough to have me rushing back here to do this. And...I've restored my own magic, it's only right to give you what's rightfully yours."

"That's if you want me to." He quickly added. "You must be willing to set aside time to learn how to control this power. Without proper discipline, the magic can overwhelm you and make you sick—it has happened before." He warned, and paused to let them digest his words. "With that in mind, do you still want me to proceed?"

Blaise nodded eagerly.

"Of course." Hermione said.

"Great, now place your lockets on the table." They did as told. Cantrell stood up and opened the book to a marked page. He read through the writing, memorizing the enchantment then began to mumble something to himself, as he took off his cloak, rolled up his sleeves and for the first time since meeting him, he withdrew his wand.

And for some unexplainable reason, it frightened her. He was powerful enough without a wand, she could only imagine what he could do with one...

"It's a powerful spell, I won't be able to complete it without my wand." Cantrell explained to her, immediately sensing her discomfort. Hermione nodded, accepting his explanation.

"Let's begin." He then said with an encouraging smile. "I'm going to need you to stand."

They stood side by side, parallel to their own golden jewelry.

"When the lockets begin to glow, I'm going to need the both of you to touch any part of the locket with one hand and join hands with the other one." He briefly looked up at them, expecting a question.

"Why?" Blaise asked.

"Because when I took the magic from you and into the lockets, you were holding hands; it's part of the bond. The only way I can move the magic, is by imitating the steps I took to remove it from you in the first place."

"But-"

"I don't make up the rules–the book did." And he tapped the book.

Blaise looked at her and she just shrugged. "His book, his rules."

"Now, you understand what you have to do?" They nodded. "I say the enchantment, and the moment – the _exact_ moment – you see the lockets start to glow-"

"We hold the locket then each other, got it." Hermione repeated.

"Perfect. This may take a few minutes, so bear with me."

Cantrell grabbed his wand, read over the page one last time, closed his eyes and started to mumble the enchantment. Hermione watched him silently. She could only hear whispers of what he was saying. It looked and sounded like a powerful spells; his eyes were firmly closed and he was holding his wand so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

Blaise nudged her, calling her attention back to the lockets.

After a few minutes, the jewelry began to glow and they quickly reached for the lockets then grabbed each other's hand. The moment she touched the locket she felt the magic sweep through her; from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes. It felt like she touched an electric outlet. The magic raced through her and awoke her every nerve, igniting something deep in her chest that she had no idea was asleep. It felt amazing, and when it was over she felt…whole.

When the lockets stopped glowing it left behind a low buzzing sound in her ears. It only stopped when Cantrell lowered his wand.

The three of them stood in silence, with Hermione and Blaise still holding on to each other.

"You can put on your lockets; the spell is done." Cantrell said. He was slightly out of breath and dropped himself on the seat behind him, wiping beads of sweat that built along his forehead.

"Why wear the lockets if we already have the magic it was holding?" Blaise asked.

"It's an heirloom, given to you the moment you were born. It does more than just hold things. It's your bond to each other…and to me." He lifted his left hand to show them his family ring; a thick, black band with the Cantrell crest at its center in solid gold. The diamonds that were embedded in the 'C' gleamed in the dimly lit room. How she never caught sight of the big rock sitting on his hand, was beyond her. "Your lockets, protect you and keep you connected. Do not take it off." He said sternly.

Hermione nodded and took a seat, suddenly feeling as exhausted as Cantrell looked. The magic she felt running through her was so powerful that she felt the need to try it-to experiment with what she could do. She closed her eyes in efforts to feel the emotions that Cantrell and Blaise were giving out and found that it matched hers; exhausted, yet satisfied. A small smile graced her face.

"That is the face of a happy witch." Cantrell said, a big grin falling onto his face.

"It feels…" Hermione started, thinking of the right word to describe the feeling rushing through her.

"Complete, whole." Blaise finished, a small smile also sitting on his face.

If possible, Cantrell's face grew brighter. "As it should. Taking away your magic, took away from your core, essentially a part of your soul. Putting it back filled an emptiness that you probably never knew was missing."

Blaise nodded in agreement. He was holding on to the locket, staring at the floor clearly lost in thought. After a moments silence his expectant hazel eyes met hers. "I-I can feel your presence and your emotions." His eyes silently widening at his own revelation. "I feel your satisfaction and your exhaustion."

Cantrell smiled in appraisal, clearly pleased that his spells worked. "Practice it. You should be able to manipulate those same emotions. While Belle takes them in as hers, you can obtain them and change it, with the right attention and concentration. It starts with the eyes, then the mind. You'll get used to it. It's truly fascinating, once you get a hang of it."

Blaise nodded, still holding on to his locket and still very confused. "That isn't all. I feel…there's this sort of like a chord, connecting me to Hermione like—"

"Like a telephone line." Hermione whispered. She felt it, too. Like a string of bright magic, as thin as a guitar string. A conscious presence in the back of her mind that was Blaise—it was his life, his magic connecting her to him.

"You lost me."

"It's…a muggle thing. A form of communication. You dial someone's numbers and once connected someone picks up on the other side." Her voice was shaking with excitement over the discovery. "T-that's how this feels. It's like a telephone line that…bonds me to you."

"Familial Bond." Blaise said, eyes widening in shock. He then turned an accusatory glare at Cantrell, whose smile was slightly less gleeful. "Wait." He exclaimed, his voice rising. "When you removed our magic, you removed our familial bond!"

The elder wizard sighed, "It was to keep you safe."

"That's dangerous! T-that—what if it was broken forever! H-how…that's-this is impossible! How did you do it?!"

Cantrell hesitated, "My magic goes beyond the scope of a normal wizard. I have already explained this to you."

"But this is different! You can't have known the bond would be mended when you removed our magic…y-you…you—"

"I did what I had to, to keep my family safe." Cantrell said sternly. "With it you would've suspected something was missing. You would have felt the loss and gone out looking for that missing piece-gone out looking for answers. I couldn't have that, it was best for you to have no trace of a connection, no bond. Nothing." His eyes hardened and his presence seemed to grow in the tiny room. Moments like that reminded her of why people seemed to be afraid of him at the Order. Alexandros Cantrell was very scary when he was upset, but that never stopped Blaise from infuriating him even further.

Hermione looked between the two, confusion settling on her face. "Can someone please explain the importance of a familial bond?"

Without removing his glare off Cantrell, Blaise answered, "Familial Bonds exists in most pureblood families. It's a part of one's magic core that stretches and holds on to your family members; it keeps you connected, secures and seals the magic that runs through your veins. That kind of magic is practically non-existent today—many people were intimidated by the power, not fond over the fact that someone else shares their magic so they forcibly expelled the bond from their core." He paused. His, now gray, eyes met hers, "The bond ties a family's magic together; it empowers it. But when someone in that family dies, and because the family is tied together by this bond, the rest of the family members that remain alive feel not only a loss of life but additionally a loss of magic. An emptiness and powerlessness that would remain unfulfilled for the rest of their lives."

"And when Cantrell removed our magic," Hermione said, finally catching on, "He was able to remove this bond?"

"Not only _able,_ he did it purposefully." Blaise said, retuning his glare to Cantrell. "Without guarantee that the bond would reseal itself when our magic was returned."

"So that's what I feel? The familial bond resealing itself?"

"Yes." The young wizard replied.

"T-then why don't…why don't I feel your bond?" Hermione said, her eyes meeting the hazel eyes of the older wizard across from her. "Why don't I feel your presence…your magic?"

Cantrell held her stare for a couple minutes, His gaze unwavering and unreadable, no matter how hard she attempted to grasp on to his emotions—he was blocking her.

When he finally looked away from her, he turned his focus on the family ring. "A part of my magic, the same bond that connected me to the both of you and Mya, died when Voldemort killed me sixteen years ago."


	14. Chapter 14

**The Secret**

**Part One:** **Pretense**

**Chapter Fourteen**

SM <3

* * *

For the first time in her life, Hermione found herself at loss for words. How was she supposed to respond to such a loaded statement? Did he _expect_ them to respond? He basically admitted to rising from the dead, which, no matter how old, powerful or resourceful your family was in the Wizarding World, resurrection was impossible.

How did he do it? How did he come back?

She had, on several occasions, brought up these questions when she could. Each time he would brush it off and say he'll eventually explain, when he was ready.

And finally, that moment had come.

"We, Mya and I, went into hiding when we found out she was pregnant. Cantrell women, like most women in the wizarding world, retreat from society and lock themselves in their homes; Mya was no different, especially considering the circumstances. War was growing, Voldemort was increasing in power and size. We managed to keep appearances, popping into the Order here and there, with an easy concealment charm over her stomach. I would still go out on missions and no suspicions were ever raised during those nine months and the subsequent two years that followed. Thirty-three months of family, happiness and love." He smiled, lost in the memory. "Around the summer before your second birthday, we heard news that Mya's brother, Milano Marlone, was a death eater. It wasn't long before Dumbledore was knocking on our door, warning of us of Voldemort's intentions with our kids—with the both of you…I-We…Mya never trusted Dumbledore. And although my father always warned me about him…in my moment of weakness, and in our desperation to keep our family safe, I practically gave our lives to the man.

"Dumbledore We allowed him into our family. I showed him my powers, our abilities and regrettably, we shared our secrets. Fortunately, Mya convinced me not to tell Dumbledore about your magic or the lockets I put it in. He wasn't there to witness when I removed part of your magic but he was always there to repeatedly tell us to give you up; one to muggles and one to a trust worthy pureblood couple. Of course we were against the latter. It wasn't until late September of 1981 that a lot of things changed.

"We were forewarned about a mission to attack our home. So, we moved around a lot—not sticking to one place, yet somehow a death eater would find us and we would be off to the next place. After the fourth time, instead of running we went into action. We wrote the letters of good bye and prepared the lockets. While we dropped off Isabelle, we left him with Nate—which as you both know, was our biggest mistake. When we returned back to the manor, Dumbledore and Nate were gone, without a trace. We removed the familial bond to the locket by then…so there was no link…no presence of you a-and…" Cantrell took a deep breath, meeting Blaise's eyes. "I think that's what broke Mya…the lack of a presence. She—we—got so use to that bond; the presence of the two of you, intertwined with our magic, alive. When I removed the magic that identified you as a Cantrell, I knew of the risks but nothing prepared us for the emptiness we would feel once that connection was gone. We knew where you were Belle, we knew you were safe but for Nate…we had no idea where you were, no idea if you were safe and nothing to go off of except for a couple meaningless promises from Dumbledore. Not knowing broke your mother. She became desperate and was practically obsessed with the idea of being a family again. She wanted to find you, reseal the missing pieces of her soul and run off, away from anyone who knew us. Away from the wizarding world and away from Voldemort.

"The only way to do that would be for Voldemort to think we were dead, and the only way for Voldemort to think we were dead was for him, or his followers, to kill us. Driven with the need to survive and save her family, she dived to Dark Magic-it was the first kind of magic she was ever taught and sadly, the last she ever used. If it wasn't for the fact that I was also desperate to find my family and leave the wizarding world, I would've questioned how she'd found the potion so quickly. I would've stopped to read about the repercussions, or even do some more research—but it was all so easy, and we were so eager to feel whole again." His voice broke off then and whatever force he was using to block her from reading his emotions, came down when he covered his face with his hands.

She felt his sadness, his grief and above all else, guilt.

"She found the potion amongst the stacks of her grandmother's books. With the instructions from her grandmother and the vast amount of supplies in the Cantrell stocks, making the potion was easy—it's most important ingredient was phoenix and familial blood. We used mine, since it was Cantrell magic that kept our bond. Voldemort was still on a relentless chase to find us, and on September 30, 1981 he got through our wards. We drank the potion right before they found us, but we were stupid to think he would just use the killing curse…"

His voice became somber and was barely above a whisper. Hermione knew he was reaching the end. "He tortured her for hours and forced me to watch the whole thing…a-and I couldn't do anything…I—"

"You don't have to explain that part. I—we understand." Hermione found herself saying. Silent tears were falling freely from her eyes. The pain issuing from him was…familiar and equally as unbearable as the death of her parents.

"He…he thought she was pregnant. Her brother fed him the wrong information…so he tortured her to until death. In the end the potion didn't save her, ensuring that any babies she may have possibly had—died along with her. It was only then, that he turned and hit me with the killing curse." He continued quietly. "I woke up three days later, feeling…just empty. Empty and alone. The remaining bond that I shared with Mya was gone, as if she…as if _we_ , never existed. The emptiness was almost torturous. I wallowed in grief for a long time, long after Voldemort vanished. I dug myself a whole and remained a really dark place for a very, very long time…it wasn't until much later, when I started reading about the potion she used…that I realized the potion was never going to save her. W-we used my blood to seal it…and Mya wasn't bonded to me by blood but my marriage…and she knew this…she sacrificed her life, to ensure that I kept mine."

Hermione had unconsciously stood up from her seat and slowly gravitated toward him while he spoke. Maybe it was the pain in his voice, or maybe it was because he sounded just as broken as she was. Whatever it was, she felt compelled to comfort him. To tell him that he wasn't alone anymore…to tell him that it wasn't his fault.

Cantrell's hazel eyes looked up at her once she reached him and she found herself imaging what those eyes had witnessed seventeen years ago. She expected his eyes to full of grief, which she found but above all else, there was a feeling of happiness—a sense completion and adoration at the sight of her…she saw a similar look back when he introduced himself in the library of the Cantrell Manor.

She crutched down next to the man and engulfed him in a hug. When he clutched on to her, she felt a sharp pain in her head and everything went black.

OOO

_When she opened her eyes, she found that she wasn't in the little room at the back of the library. She was in a white room, crutching between two empty cots that looked like hospital beds. The room was familiar, but she couldn't quite place where she had remembered it until she saw the large, black clock on the wall opposite her, that she recognized the room as the small infirmary in the Cantrell Manor._

_The dark doors to her far left opened and a much younger Cantrell slowly entered. His hair was shorter and elegantly parted to the side. His wrinkles were gone and his face gleamed with unremitting happiness and nervousness. He stood at the door, for perhaps ten minutes deep in thought. He didn't acknowledge nor feel her presence and that's when she realized she was stuck in a memory. His memory._

_The clock ticked and she watched as both arrows landed on eleven. He looked at the time then walked towards one of the beds that were enclosed with curtains. Hermione quickly followed and gasped._

_On the bed lay Mya Cantrell, sleeping peacefully; her hair sprawled out on the pillow and a small, content smile on her face. Hermione stepped from behind Cantrell and moved closer, mesmerized by the beautiful woman before her._

_For a second she wished the moment was real. She wished when she reached for her face, her fingers wouldn't slip through. She wished she could shake her awake and tell her that her family was going to be okay. She wanted to tell Mya that she was going to love and take care of both of her boys as furiously as she did. She wanted to tell her that she was eternally grateful for the sacrifices she made for her family sixteen years ago. She wanted to tell her that she never thought it would be possible to love someone she couldn't remember, someone she didn't know...and yet love was all she felt for her as she lay sleeping._

_Cantrell moved from beside Mya to the other side of her bed, where a small white crib was positioned. Hermione stood behind him, and watched how he picked up two new born babies; Infant versions of her and Blaise. She was slightly surprised at how similar they looked; varying only in skin tones and Blaise bright hazel eyes would be recognizable anywhere. She almost laughed at the fuzz of hair that covered the top on her head but there were so many emotions running through her and tears quickly gathered behind her eyes._

_Hermione sat at the edge of the bed, away from Mya, and watched Cantrell interact with the babies. He looked down at her with the same look he always had whenever he looked at her; happiness, love and an overwhelming sense of completion._

_Suddenly, he looked up as if he finally realized there was someone else in the room. When their eyes met Hermione panicked, anticipating anger but instead Cantrell smiled. And everything was okay._

OOO

When Hermione opened her eyes, she was now looking at the worried face of Blaise Zabini.

"Holy fucking shit. Thank Merlin." He muttered as he helped her sit up. Cantrell sat on her other side, worry and apprehension in his eyes.

"Language." He said sternly, but didn't take his eyes off her. Blaise only grunted in response.

When she managed to sit up on her own, she rubbed her aching head, "What happened?"

"Well," Blaise begun, a frown sitting on his face. "We were having a pretty serious conversation, you got up hugged Cantrell, and…fainted, I guess."

She clenched her eyes closed, the throbbing in her head becoming nearly painful. "I-I—"

"What did you see?" Cantrell asked quietly. She turned attention to him, a smile creeping on her face.

"I-I saw a memory. I think." The dizziness she felt was saliently easing off but her headache was relentless. "Of you, me and Blaise…we were babies–new born babies. We were in the infirmary back at the manor. You picked me up and … Mya was there, alive but sleeping...She was so beautiful." She whispered. The more she explained, the clearer it got in her mind; it was almost like a scene from a movie, just replaying in her mind.

"Wicked." She heard Blaise mutter.

"You're right. It was indeed a memory; just a couple hours after you were born." Cantrell said, a sad smile on his face. "It appears you can see into minds, with a person's touch, as I do."

"That's…" She started, but didn't really know what to make of it. Did that mean she couldn't touch anyone without begin transported into a past memory? Into their thoughts? Would she faint each time?

"This was the first time. It quite natural to faint—I can assure you that I blacked out numerous times before getting a hang of it. You will have to suffer through the headaches though…they take a lot longer to get rid of. Nothing a potion won't be able to fix though, if it gets too bad." He said, clearly sensing her confusion.

"How does it work? Would I faint each time I touch someone?" She itched away from Blaise's hands who were still out and ready to catch her, as if she would faint again.

"It is possible to touch someone and not be thrown into their mind, or a memory. You have to be very in tune with their own emotions because the emotions tigers the thought, or in my case as you saw, it triggered a particular memory." He paused. "You have to _want_ to invade someone's mind."

Hermione quickly shook her head, "I didn't mean to invade—"

"I'm assuming, my emotions took ahold of you too strongly." He smiled, bashing her concern away. "That was probably one of my favorite memories. I am nothing but pleased that at least one of you got to see it." He stood up and offered her a hand, which she hesitantly took blocking off any other emotion that wasn't her own feeling of bewilderment. Thankfully, when he brought her to her feet, she remained in the present.

"Did you see me?" She quickly asked. The memory replayed in her head like a movie, and she couldn't escape the look that he had given her at the end. As if he knew she was there, her future self, was there with him.

She wasn't very sure if he would understand her question but then he nodded yes, "The mind is a precious thing, and i take pride in my ability to know all parts of mine-including when there is an intruder."

Silence followed his response and they were once gain reminded of how powerful this man was.

"I think that'll be enough for today. I'm sure you both need rest and time to…digest everything I've told you." He said, with a stern yet partially concerned voice.

Hermione nodded. "I'll see you in the morning," She said quietly, then looked at Blaise who was looking at the wizard with a face she couldn't read—her magic clearly spent.

Before either could say a word, Blaise stepped up to Cantrell and engulfed him in a very awkward hug. Cantrell, who was about an inch shorter then Blaise's six foot two frame, reached around him and patted his back. A happy smile, which even reached his eyes, settling over his face.

"I'm…sorry." She heard him mutter.

Hermione looked at them in silent amazement. With them so close to each other she saw the uncanny resemblance between the two, more so then Blaise's resemblance to Mya; he truly looked like his father's son. She smiled at the thought.

She thought she would be able to keep the both of them at a distance but the more time she spent with them, the more she grew to care for them. Hermione intended to keep the promise she made in Mya in that memory; she was going to take care of them, keep them safe and love them as if they were…

 _Family_. She finally thought. She was going to do all these things because they were her _family_.

* * *

Hermione was surprised to find Malfoy and Pansy sitting on opposite sides of her room as she entered; One sitting on the window bench and the other in her usual seat by the mirror. She didn't bother to hide her surprise.

"What the hell—"

"Relax Hermione. I told them to wait for me here." Blaise said, walk past her and throwing himself on her bed.

She crossed her arm over her chest. "Why not your room?"

"I don't have time for this." She heard Malfoy mutter.

She turned an accusatory glare in his direction and opened her mouth to instruct him to leave, only to be interrupted by Blaise.

"Hermione please. It's important." He mumbled into her sheets.

"Can't we do this tomorrow?" She asked tiredly.

"I won't be around tomorrow."

"Why?" She asked, now concerned.

"Take a seat and I'll explain." She sighed and went to sit beside Pansy, who had her eyes closed, clearly exhausted. Hermione couldn't blame her; she had been up since the wee hours of the morning, reading, organizing and researching.

Quite frankly they all looked pretty exhausted and each for completely different reasons.

Blaise sat up, rubbing his face "So earlier tonight I met with Dumbledore and the Order to talk about becoming a spy."

Hermione and Pansy sat up with new found energy, "Great! How'd it go?"

"Alright I guess," He scratched the back of his neck. "Said I have to master occlumency...the lessons with Cantrell haven't been working so Dumbledore said he'll try."

"When do you start the lessons?" Pansy asked. She settled her head onto Hermione's shoulders, which looked slightly awkward considering Pansy was a couple inches taller than her.

"He said as soon as possible. He wants to get things situated first. Tell the heads and such."

"Wait-" Malfoy started. "Dumbledore is going to teach you?" He glanced at Hermione, some apprehension in his eyes which she immediately caught.

"Yes, he said he would, but…after what Hermione and I discussed with Cantrell I don't think that'll happen."

"Why not?" Malfoy inquired, a skeptical brow raised.

Blaise's jaw tensed. "He doesn't trust Dumbledore."

"Well that was obvious the night we first visited the Order." Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. "Why doesn't Andy trust him?"

"Long story."

"But—"

"Not important." Hermione said quickly interrupting. She didn't want anyone to know what Cantrell had just shared with them. Cantrell had a hard enough time just telling the two of them. Besides, it was…private. Between family. "Cantrell probably has no idea what he's up to, have you told him?"

"Haven't gotten the chance." Blaise frowned, and evaluated his next words. "I, um…asked him about it…"

"About what?" Draco asked, standing up and looking out the window. Hermione took a glance and saw the familiar light of the sun slowly rising over the horizon. Merlin, what time was it? How long were they in that damn library?

"I asked him why did he leave me with the Zabini's, instead of muggles." Hermione felt anger and annoyance slowly heave through his body. Suddenly she wanted Blaise's powers; his emotions were all over the place the whole night and she wished to calm him and ease the anger, pain and confusion away.

Draco looked back at them and nodded, "What did he say?"

Blaise laughed without humor. "What else? You know Dumbledore he never gives anyone a straight answer—I didn't expect him to either. All he said was that he 'had his reasons' and in the end it was to 'protect me.' Which is—"

"Bullshit." Pansy finished.

"Said the same thing in that first meeting too." Hermione added with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, pure hippogriff shite. I'm a bloody death eater for fucks sake! And I'm a _Cantrell._ We are _not_ death eaters! I could hear my ancestors rolling in their graves. Dumbledore knew the plan he had in his head didn't go the way he wished!"

"Or maybe-" Malfoy started, "Maybe it went the way he wanted it to. Think about it; you're a death eater and as of today, a spy for the order. I think…this may be what he envisioned the whole time. This may have been his plan from the beginning."

Hermione guessed this of course, but she didn't have the gull to tell Blaise. Admitting that Dumbledore saw Blaise becoming a Death Eater without stopping it, would mean admitting that Dumbledore knew of the dangers that the Grangers faced and did nothing to protect them.

Blaise's eye darkened upon realization and truth to Malfoy's words. She felt his anger-she shared in his anger... but a part of her want an explanation. Dumbledore couldn't be so cruel to a defenseless child...

She wanted to believe that Dumbledore was a good man. But, how far would he go to take Voldemort down?

"It was war Granger." Pansy reasoned. "Maybe he knew Voldemort would return, maybe he didn't. I'm sure he knew the Zabini's—he could've done much worse, like put him with the Dolohov's… He knew nothing really bad would happen to him with the Zabini's. I'm sure he kept an eye on-"

Hermione quickly interrupted her. "He wasn't going to let anything bad happen to him?! Blaise has a mark on your skin that will probably never go away! He wasn't given a choice... and what if Cantrell never came back for us?" Hermione stood up and started pacing. How could he?! Without the consent of his parents and knowing how distraught Mya was. Knowing how broken her magic was after he disappeared with Blaise...

One look at Blaise's distraught form and the anger returned. He didn't even have the strength to argue because there was absolutely nothing he could with about the mark or his alliance with the man that put it there.

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and ran a haggard hand through her hair. She suddenly wanted to crawl under her covers and hide from this world-a world where many lied and trust was lost. She was surprised when Pansy stood up to hug her. Hermione flinched away at first, fearing being delved into her mind. But nothing happened when Pansy forced her into a hug again—she guessed she was too consumed with her _own_ thoughts and emotions.

"You guys are making some points but I think you're forgetting that it is Dumbledore we are talking about here. He's good, he might have lied and filled us with a whole lot of bull, but in the end I think he's going to do the right thing. He's _Dumbledore_." The taller, dark haired witch said with an encouraging smile.

"His end may be sooner then we think." Hermione asked after letting go of Pansy. She considered not saying the next words, but she had been eating at her for almost week... "He's dying."

Blaise's and Draco's head snapped up to attention. "What?" They exclaimed in unison.

Hermione sighed. She refused to sit down-she was sure she would fall asleep the second she did. "His hand. I'm sure you've all seen it. It's a curse. I don't think hells be able to fight it for much longer. Harry said he's had it for about a year now."

"A curse?" Malfoy questioned.

"I don't know what curse hit it." She said choosing your words carefully. They didn't need to know it came from a horcrux-that would start another row of questions. "But it's only worsened since Hogwarts ended. I think... Snape was helping him recover... but now that Snape has shown his true colors... there's no one to stop the curse from spreading."

Silence engulfed them as they digested her words.

"Dumbledore dead?" Pansy started. Hermione was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "That's going to start havoc! He's the only thing keeping Voldemort at bay! He'll kill thousands. He'll try to recruit me _again_. He'll take over the ministry-everything I'm working for-" she began trembling and breathing haggardly. Even her eyes looked around wildly.

She was having a panic attack.

Before Hermione could react, Malfoy had swiftly taken a spot in front of her. With his hands on both of Pansy's shoulders, he lowered his head so she was looking into his eyes. "Pans. Breathe."

Her hands continued to tremble at her sides. Blaise conjured a Calming Drought-his own eyes wide and frightened.

"I don't know for certain," Hermione tried to reassure her once the potion began to do its job. "But _if_ Dumbledore's death comes sooner than expected, you have to be strong. There _is_ an end to this war. I can assure you of that. There is a way to take Voldemort down-with or without Dumbledore. Just trust that the Order, which is now all of you, will continue protect and fight any kind of evil."

It must've been a little past seven in the morning when Pansy had finally calmed down and Blaise volunteered to take her back to her room. The halls were bright but Hermione's own room remained darkened with a charm Blaise placed on her curtains.

Malfoy lingered at her door. She had long past given up her resistance to her bed and laid on her side facing him. Her hair fell out of the braid she put it in earlier that day and the thick unruly locks dropped all around her. It took all of her power not to close her eyes.

"Leave. I want sleep."

"It's Potter isn't it?" He questioned, ignoring her sleepy demand. "Who has to kill him?"

Her silence gave him his answer.

"And you're going to help him? You'll be risking your life... I don't know what you have to do to Voldemort but I know-"

Hermione laughed, finding humor in his words. "You care what happens to me Malfoy? Did Blaise tell you to do that too or is this coming from a place deep in your heart?"

He glowered at her. "I'm was going to say-"

"Wherever Harry goes, whatever challenges he faces, I will be right there right next to him. As his friend, I'll keep him safe. As his family, I'll make sure he survives." She said as sternly as she could.

Malfoy observed her. Reading her face in ways she couldn't describe. Her magic was so exhausted, she couldn't even read whatever emotion he felt towards her words-anger? Disgust? Who knew.

But his next words surprise her, "Potter wouldn't last an hour out there...without you." Then he bid her goodnight and closed the door behind him.

Hermione was sure she fell asleep at some point because Draco Malfoy was only nice to her in her dreams.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Secret**

**Part One:** **Pretense**

**Chapter Fifteen**

SM <3

* * *

Hermione sat on the floor of the Cantrell cottage library once again. It must've been around three in the morning—the only thing visible outside the window was darkness and one's own reflection with a properly lit wand. Cantrell put a charm on the library that made the seats and lights disappear around two in the morning—dispelling all-nighters and encouraging a good night's sleep. A new rule that only came into effect earlier that day when all four of the younger witches and wizards woke up joined him for breakfast…at nearly three in the afternoon. Their mouths told one story, while they bags under their eyes told another. Cantrell choose to believe the latter.

"Blaise and Pansy are both sleeping over the Order. Cantrell said they'll be back tomorrow morning. He said Pansy has an early meeting with the aurors then the company. Blaise didn't want to leave her alone." Malfoy said, as he came from around a bookshelf with a book safely tucked under his arm.

Hermione had taken him to see his mother just an hour prior. With permission from Cantrell, they arranged to meet in the library at eleven, only to have Malfoy arrive fifteen minutes late without an apology. Surprisingly, and as he predicted, her locket was a form of transportation and she didn't even have do much. Malfoy merely grabbed ahold of her locket and they arrived in the depths of a foggy forest; thick trees, night owls and a darkness that forced her to unconsciously step closer to him, which he only raised his eyebrow at in response. She quickly followed him a short way to an assortment of largely pilled rocks and watched him tap his wand against them without a word. Beyond the entrance was a drafty hall that led a short door way. She watched him hesitate at the door, sigh then muttered, "give me an hour." She didn't feel hurt as he closed the door behind him without inviting her in. She had no desire to intrude on their time together…and she was afraid of what would be on the other side. So she settled with a warming charm and sat on the floor. He took exactly an hour and when he reappeared his face was as unreadable as ever. They returned back to the Cantrell Cottage in silence.

He put his coffee down and sat on the ground a couple feet away from her. She began to wonder why he was attempting to entertain her, and why neither of them made a move to go back to their room when they returned.

"Do Blaise and Pansy have a … thing?" She asked in attempt to make conversation in the awkward silence that followed their return.

Malfoy chuckled.

Yes, Draco Malfoy just chuckled in her presence. First he said nice things, now he chuckled.

"I have no idea what they are."

Silence.

"They're kind of like you and Potter." He then said quietly.

"What?"

He looked at her, meeting her gaze for the first time since they returned. "You know, how you and Potter are— that's them. Wanting yet hesitant."

It was Hermione's turn to chuckle. "Harry and I don't feel _that_ way for each other Malfoy, if that's what you're trying to hint at. Our friendship is mutually platonic."

"For now."

She could feel the exhaustion coming off him. Maybe his exhaustion was getting to his head, taking over his sensibility and making him more verbal. She was slightly surprised at their conversation. "Never." She repeated.

Then again, silence.

She felt his gaze on her, but she refused to look at him—she was trying so hard not to gage and absorb whatever emotion he had running through him.

"Ask me." He commanded. "Speak."

His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes held confusion. He knew she wanted to ask a billion questions. But she was just too scared to know. Why was his mother stuck in such a dreary place? Why was she there? Why all the secrecy? And, where was his father?

"I could practically hear your questions Granger. Spill."

She took a deep breath and went for the simplest, yet probably the most loaded question. "What happened?"

Malfoy took a while to answer, but he eventually laid out on the floor with his head facing the ceiling and propped the book he was reading under this neck. She had never seen him so… comfortable.

"It's a long story." He warned, then looked at her for permission to continue. She nodded.

"The war started at the end of my fifth year—for me at least. When the Dark Lord came back…he was very upset with my father. He was disappointed that Lucius didn't do much to bring him back and naturally, he was punished for it. The worst of it didn't come until last summer. It was also the summer that the Dark Lord began recruiting death eaters from Hogwarts." He paused, finding his current position uncomfortable so he sat up. "As you know that was when Zabini crossed, along with a couple other Slytherins and…I…my mother didn't want me a part of it. _I_ didn't want any parts of it—and no, my reasons for not joining weren't noble, Granger. I saw what my father turned into and I didn't see the point of risking my _life_ for some shit-faced coward who stayed behind closed doors. Self-preservation, for me, is a virtue. Unsurprisingly, my mother begged him, she begged Lucius to save me from that life but there wasn't much he could do from his prison cell. And when the Dark Lord comes knowing on your door, you don't exactly ignore him.

"He, the Dark Lord, personally came to me with a mission. He said it was a way for me to redeem myself and my family's mistake. He said, if I completed my mission I will be given the mark and allowed in his inner circle…if I didn't, it would mean an end to the Malfoy name-an end to my family." He subconsciously began to fidget with his family ring. "You know what happens from there. I'm sure Potter filled you in. Last year was probably one of the worst times of my life. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. I was so focused on saving my mother and it was all I saw, all I could see because if not she would be dead…and so would I. But the moment I got to the top of that tower I-I couldn't do it. I knew what I had to do but…I couldn't do it.

"So, I lowered my wand. I saw Snape move to fire a spell so I disarmed him instead…and that's when my life changed. I didn't stay to fight of the death eaters I let in, I ran. I ran as fast as I could to save my mom before the Dark Lord heard word of my failure. When I got home, Lucius was there. Freed. He was an unrecognizable man—there was something in his eyes that was beyond salvaging. He took one look at my face and knew I didn't do it. I failed the Dark Lord and I failed him. My mother—she—" He paused and she finally felt a sliver of his emotions washed over her; a slow growth of anger.

"That was her biggest mistake." He said quietly. "She got in the way. Now, you have to understand that Lucius raised me-I know him like I know the back of my hand; he taught me all the spells that I know, he taught me how to defend myself both magically and physically; he taught me how to duel. My mother hardly had a reason to lift a finger, let alone a wand since she's been married. Why she thought she could protect me better I could protect myself? I don't know. But she did... and he tortured her for it. He tortured her for so long that I wondered how'd she not go mad. He tortured her mind, her body and I…didn't do a thing to stop him." Malfoy stared intently at his family ring, his eyebrow furrowed and his lips pursed. She could only imagine what he was thinking, what he was remembering. Silence engulfed them for a long time, as the very familiar sense of guilt and remorse slowly replaced his anger. And Hermione felt it all.

After what felt like hours of silence, his eyes fell on her and so many emotions hit all at once. Wave after wave of hurt, pain, anger, regret and loneliness. All reflected off his bright gray eyes and just how she has unconsciously grabbed onto his peaceful composure at the Order, and just how she felt Cantrell's loss only days ago, she felt herself latch onto Malfoy's pain as if it were her own and a single tear began to run down her cheek

Malfoy watched it trail down her cheek and reached out to her, only to have her flinch away. "Don't." She whispered. She was too wrapped in his emotions and was afraid that if he touched her, she would be thrown in his mind and be witness to a memory that she was sure he didn't want anyone to see.

Malfoy ignored her protest, and let his finger catch the tear and trailed it back up her cheek. He stopped right under the eye, then turned his palm around and grazed his knuckles over her check then down the bridge of her nose. Hermione held her breath as he did so.

And once again, he didn't seem affected at all. As if touching her in that manner was a normal, daily occurrence for them.

"When he was done," He continued. "He let her go. He realized I wasn't going to crack so he left. Knowing he would soon also die at the Dark Lord's hand and wanted to escape before he arrived. The second he disappeared I was running. I packed up my things, her things and sent them to the only place I knew they wouldn't find us—Aunt Andromeda's home. Until I was sure Hogwarts was safe again. I was determined to get her out of there. I was ready to leave and she was still unconscious. I didn't even bother to check if she was alive or not. I didn't want to know. I thought we were safe, but just as I was about to floo to my aunt's home, he came back. I tried to let us leave safely but—He hit her. Just as we were traveling the network, he hit her with a curse.

"That curse has had her sick in bed for almost a month and it is the same curse Dumbledore and I have been trying to find cure for, but with no avail. The next morning I went back to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, for help and for her safety. So that's how she ended up in that shit hole." He scowled. "I am grateful, but that place is making her worse, my mother isn't use to those kinds of conditions. She can't survive in a place like that."

"And you're planning on moving her?" She asked.

"Of course! It's just not easy. I do not want anyone to know what happened to my mother or the fact that I am keeping her hidden. No one." He finished sternly, as if warning her. "So the possibility and availability of moving her are slim. My aunt wants to help…but I would be putting her in danger as well. Dumbledore says he is trying to find somewhere else, but I feel that his interest in my problems are lessoning due the arrival of Cantrell and then there's Blaise who also needs his assistance. After what you told us yesterday...I have to act fast."

"Why can't she stay at the cottage?" Cantrell was already keeping Pansy and Draco away from the world what's one other person?

"He doesn't want to put you and Blaise in any further danger…he's already risking a lot by housing me."

"That not exactly fair." She found herself saying. "If you're already here, it's basically the same thing—"

"No." He interrupted. "I understand his reasoning. His family comes before anyone else. My stay is already pushing it."

A silence fell over them.

"Malfoy." She tried and waited for his eyes to meet hers. "Your mother…" She hesitated. "Whatever curse your father hit her with, will only deteriorate her body faster, she needs a healer! She's being confined like a-a—"

"A wild animal?! I know this Granger." His eyes flashed with anger and he stood up. "I know she's sick-she's _dying_. I _know_ this." He hissed. "I've only seen her get worse and worse as the days pass. I-" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was one the verge of losing it, she felt it. But he wouldn't allow himself to, not in front of her.

"I'm trying." He whispered. "She's all I've got. I'm trying very hard to keep her with me, for as long as possible." He looked so defeated. He needed his mother. His sanity depended on her survival. All in all, it was a feeling she was all too familiar with.

"I'm going to help you." She finally said.

Malfoy raised his head to look at her, his eyes slightly hopeful.

"I have a plan…But we're going to need Blaise and Pansy's help."


	16. Chapter 16

The Secret

Part One: Pretense

Chapter 16

SM <3

* * *

 

Hermione sat on the floor of the Cantrell cottage library once again. It must've been around three in the morning—the only thing visible outside the window was darkness and one's own reflection with a properly lit wand. Cantrell put a charm on the library that made the seats and lights disappear around two in the morning—dispelling all-nighters and encouraging a good night's sleep. A new rule that only came into effect earlier that day when all four of the younger witches and wizards woke up joined him for breakfast…at nearly three in the afternoon. Their mouths told one story, while they bags under their eyes told another. Cantrell choose to believe the latter.

"Blaise and Pansy are both sleeping over the Order. Cantrell said they'll be back tomorrow morning. He said Pansy has an early meeting with the aurors then the company. Blaise didn't want to leave her alone." Malfoy said, as he came from around a bookshelf with a book safely tucked under his arm.

Hermione had taken him to see his mother just an hour prior. With permission from Cantrell, they arranged to meet in the library at eleven, only to have Malfoy arrive fifteen minutes late without an apology. Surprisingly, and as he predicted, her locket was a form of transportation and she didn't even have do much. Malfoy merely grabbed ahold of her locket and they arrived in the depths of a foggy forest; thick trees, night owls and a darkness that forced her to unconsciously step closer to him, which he only raised his eyebrow at in response. She quickly followed him a short way to an assortment of largely pilled rocks and watched him tap his wand against them without a word. Beyond the entrance was a drafty hall that led a short door way. She watched him hesitate at the door, sigh then muttered, "give me an hour." She didn't feel hurt as he closed the door behind him without inviting her in. She had no desire to intrude on their time together…and she was afraid of what would be on the other side. So she settled with a warming charm and sat on the floor. He took exactly an hour and when he reappeared his face was as unreadable as ever. They returned back to the Cantrell Cottage in silence.

He put his coffee down and sat on the ground a couple feet away from her. She began to wonder why he was attempting to entertain her, and why neither of them made a move to go back to their room when they returned.

"Do Blaise and Pansy have a … thing?" She asked in attempt to make conversation in the awkward silence that followed their return.

Malfoy chuckled.

Yes, Draco Malfoy just chuckled in her presence. First he said nice things, now he chuckled.

"I have no idea what they are."

Silence.

"They're kind of like you and Potter." He then said quietly.

"What?"

He looked at her, meeting her gaze for the first time since they returned. "You know, how you and Potter are— that's them. Wanting yet hesitant."

It was Hermione's turn to chuckle. "Harry and I don't feel _that_ way for each other Malfoy, if that's what you're trying to hint at. Our friendship is mutually platonic."

"For now."

She could feel the exhaustion coming off him. Maybe his exhaustion was getting to his head, taking over his sensibility and making him more verbal. She was slightly surprised at their conversation. "Never." She repeated.

Then again, silence.

She felt his gaze on her, but she refused to look at him—she was trying so hard not to gage and absorb whatever emotion he had running through him.

"Ask me." He commanded. "Speak."

His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes held confusion. He knew she wanted to ask a billion questions. But she was just too scared to know. Why was his mother stuck in such a dreary place? Why was she there? Why all the secrecy? And, where was his father?

"I could practically hear your questions Granger. Spill."

She took a deep breath and went for the simplest, yet probably the most loaded question. "What happened?"

Malfoy took a while to answer, but he eventually laid out on the floor with his head facing the ceiling and propped the book he was reading under this neck. She had never seen him so… comfortable.

"It's a long story." He warned, then looked at her for permission to continue. She nodded.

"The war started at the end of my fifth year—for me at least. When the Dark Lord came back…he was very upset with my father. He was disappointed that Lucius didn't do much to bring him back and naturally, he was punished for it. The worst of it didn't come until last summer. It was also the summer that the Dark Lord began recruiting death eaters from Hogwarts." He paused, finding his current position uncomfortable so he sat up. "As you know that was when Zabini crossed, along with a couple other Slytherins and…I…my mother didn't want me a part of it. _I_ didn't want any parts of it—and no, my reasons for not joining weren't noble, Granger. I saw what my father turned into and I didn't see the point of risking my _life_ for some shit-faced coward who stayed behind closed doors. Self-preservation, for me, is a virtue. Unsurprisingly, my mother begged him, she begged Lucius to save me from that life but there wasn't much he could do from his prison cell. And when the Dark Lord comes knowing on your door, you don't exactly ignore him.

"He, the Dark Lord, personally came to me with a mission. He said it was a way for me to redeem myself and my family's mistake. He said, if I completed my mission I will be given the mark and allowed in his inner circle…if I didn't, it would mean an end to the Malfoy name-an end to my family." He subconsciously began to fidget with his family ring. "You know what happens from there. I'm sure Potter filled you in. Last year was probably one of the worst times of my life. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. I was so focused on saving my mother and it was all I saw, all I could see because if not she would be dead…and so would I. But the moment I got to the top of that tower I-I couldn't do it. I knew what I had to do but…I couldn't do it.

"So, I lowered my wand. I saw Snape move to fire a spell so I disarmed him instead…and that's when my life changed. I didn't stay to fight of the death eaters I let in, I ran. I ran as fast as I could to save my mom before the Dark Lord heard word of my failure. When I got home, Lucius was there. Freed. He was an unrecognizable man—there was something in his eyes that was beyond salvaging. He took one look at my face and knew I didn't do it. I failed the Dark Lord and I failed him. My mother—she—" He paused and she finally felt a sliver of his emotions washed over her; a slow growth of anger.

"That was her biggest mistake." He said quietly. "She got in the way. Now, you have to understand that Lucius raised me-I know him like I know the back of my hand; he taught me all the spells that I know, he taught me how to defend myself both magically and physically; he taught me how to duel. My mother hardly had a reason to lift a finger, let alone a wand since she's been married. Why she thought she could protect me better I could protect myself? I don't know. But she did... and he tortured her for it. He tortured her for so long that I wondered how'd she not go mad. He tortured her mind, her body and I…didn't do a thing to stop him." Malfoy stared intently at his family ring, his eyebrow furrowed and his lips pursed. She could only imagine what he was thinking, what he was remembering. Silence engulfed them for a long time, as the very familiar sense of guilt and remorse slowly replaced his anger. And Hermione felt it all.

After what felt like hours of silence, his eyes fell on her and so many emotions hit all at once. Wave after wave of hurt, pain, anger, regret and loneliness. All reflected off his bright gray eyes and just how she has unconsciously grabbed onto his peaceful composure at the Order, and just how she felt Cantrell's loss only days ago, she felt herself latch onto Malfoy's pain as if it were her own and a single tear began to run down her cheek

Malfoy watched it trail down her cheek and reached out to her, only to have her flinch away. "Don't." She whispered. She was too wrapped in his emotions and was afraid that if he touched her, she would be thrown in his mind and be witness to a memory that she was sure he didn't want anyone to see.

Malfoy ignored her protest, and let his finger catch the tear and trailed it back up her cheek. He stopped right under the eye, then turned his palm around and grazed his knuckles over her check then down the bridge of her nose. Hermione held her breath as he did so.

And once again, he didn't seem affected at all. As if touching her in that manner was a normal, daily occurrence for them.

"When he was done," He continued. "He let her go. He realized I wasn't going to crack so he left. Knowing he would soon also die at the Dark Lord's hand and wanted to escape before he arrived. The second he disappeared I was running. I packed up my things, her things and sent them to the only place I knew they wouldn't find us—Aunt Andromeda's home. Until I was sure Hogwarts was safe again. I was determined to get her out of there. I was ready to leave and she was still unconscious. I didn't even bother to check if she was alive or not. I didn't want to know. I thought we were safe, but just as I was about to floo to my aunt's home, he came back. I tried to let us leave safely but—He hit her. Just as we were traveling the network, he hit her with a curse.

"That curse has had her sick in bed for almost a month and it is the same curse Dumbledore and I have been trying to find cure for, but with no avail. The next morning I went back to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, for help and for her safety. So that's how she ended up in that shit hole." He scowled. "I am grateful, but that place is making her worse, my mother isn't use to those kinds of conditions. She can't survive in a place like that."

"And you're planning on moving her?" She asked.

"Of course! It's just not easy. I do not want anyone to know what happened to my mother or the fact that I am keeping her hidden. No one." He finished sternly, as if warning her. "So the possibility and availability of moving her are slim. My aunt wants to help…but I would be putting her in danger as well. Dumbledore says he is trying to find somewhere else, but I feel that his interest in my problems are lessoning due the arrival of Cantrell and then there's Blaise who also needs his assistance. After what you told us yesterday...I have to act fast."

"Why can't she stay at the cottage?" Cantrell was already keeping Pansy and Draco away from the world what's one other person?

"He doesn't want to put you and Blaise in any further danger…he's already risking a lot by housing me."

"That not exactly fair." She found herself saying. "If you're already here, it's basically the same thing—"

"No." He interrupted. "I understand his reasoning. His family comes before anyone else. My stay is already pushing it."

A silence fell over them.

"Malfoy." She tried and waited for his eyes to meet hers. "Your mother…" She hesitated. "Whatever curse your father hit her with, will only deteriorate her body faster, she needs a healer! She's being confined like a-a—"

"A wild animal?! I know this Granger." His eyes flashed with anger and he stood up. "I know she's sick-she's _dying_. I _know_ this." He hissed. "I've only seen her get worse and worse as the days pass. I-" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was one the verge of losing it, she felt it. But he wouldn't allow himself to, not in front of her.

"I'm trying." He whispered. "She's all I've got. I'm trying very hard to keep her with me, for as long as possible." He looked so defeated. He needed his mother. His sanity depended on her survival. All in all, it was a feeling she was all too familiar with.

"I'm going to help you." She finally said.

Malfoy raised his head to look at her, his eyes slightly hopeful.

"I have a plan…But we're going to need Blaise and Pansy's help."


	17. Chapter 17

**The Secret**

**Part One: Pretense**

**Chapter 17**

x SM x

* * *

After redoing (and creating additional) protective enchantments, checking for dark magic, then asking the other cottage occupants about a dozen times if they were sure about moving, Andy _finally_ decided that they were ready to move into the Cantrell Manor. His entire evaluation process took almost three weeks and uncertainty permeated his face the entire time. Both Blaise and Hermione had to take turns reassuring him that there was nothing to worry about—that the enchantments were unbreakable and no one would have a clue that there were people living in the manor. In the very rare case that someone managed to get through their wards, the Manor would still appear to be the same dreadful disaster it had been for sixteen years—instead of the beauty they transformed it into. Additionally, the Ministry was unable to enter the space sixteen years ago and was therefore unable to possess any of the Cantrell property—going off Dumbledore's word that the last of the Cantrell's were murdered by Voldemort himself back in 1981. Any kind of regulated patrol the Ministry did in the area was long abandoned due to lack of action on the property—a fact that Kingsley confirmed to Cantrell after he went around searching.

The Ministry couldn't even trace them through apparition if they wanted too—Blaise and Hermione used the power of their lockets, taking Malfoy and Pansy whenever they needed to head back to the manor. Nothing would give them away. Yet Cantrell, being the worrisome wizard he was, still obsessed over their safety well after they settled in.

Hermione dedicated her time assisting her peers in their own struggles. She had a schedule of sorts; her mornings were dedicated to Harry—most of their time was spent researching possible Horcruxes and dueling. While Harry was great with movement and reflexes, Hermione's upper hand was her vast knowledge of spells. A list of spells that was steadily increasing with the more she read in the Cantrell Library. Additionally, his emotional triggers helped her anticipate the spells he used against her. It felt a bit like cheating and was something Harry had become increasingly aggravated with. She wouldn't deny that her Extra Magic gave her an advantage and the better she became at gaging her opponent's mental state, the better her dueling became. Cantrell watched the pair duel just the other night, a proud smirk gracing his face when Hermione disarmed Harry in less than two minutes.

Her afternoons were spent with Pansy. The girls found solace in a hidden room they found one day after exploring the seemingly limitless Cantrell Library. One afternoon, while picking through books on wizard business, the curly-haired witch pulled a out-of-place Latin book entitled _Spatia Secreto_ and the shelves made a low creaking sound before opening and displaying a medium sized room, flooded with stacks of leather bounded journals and decorated with a lovely mix of royal blue walls and dark purple furniture situated amongst the vast piles of journals. But, what stood out to them most was that the room practically shook with unused magic.

After running to find Cantrell for an explanation, he only smiled and encouraged them to go inside.

"You found the most prized part of the library; the Reflection Room." He had said to them, while casting a charm that organized the mess of journals into the wall of empty shelves on the opposite side of them. He closed the selves with the adjoined glass covers, meant to preserve the pages of self-dictated history. Hermione hoped he hadn't placed a locking spell over it.

"When you want to start a journal entry, you will find your journal waiting here," He said, pointing to the dark wooden podium at the center of the room, siting under a large tapestry of a white unicorn galloping in the darkest of woods. "The journal will always present itself as yours and the pages are never ending. When you feel ready to retire the journal to the Perseveration Wall." Turning pointedly to the glass covered shelves. "But, the magic of it all begins when one reflects. While you write, or read aloud from an old journal, the room creates a visual of the words. Whether it's a thought or memory you're reflecting on…the room tries its best to present your words in efforts to accurately preserve what is on your mind—think of it as a pensive, of sorts." He paused, slightly hesitating. "In our family…the mind is considered one of the two most valuable parts of a person—the second being one's magic."

Though the room vibrated with magic they didn't quite comprehend, the girls found peace in the Reflection Room. They would gather the books they wanted to read, pull the _Spatia Secreto_ and lock themselves in the room for hours at a time. Hermione hadn't picked up a journal—not yet very comfortable with her thoughts…well not enough to have it visually appear before her.

After several weeks of no sight or word from the Head of Parkinson House, Pansy's father was declared missing almost a week after celebrating her coming of age and official partial ownership of her mother's business. Pansy was expecting it, but the news still brought tears to her eyes. She spent the day locked in her room, allowing only Cantrell to come in every couple hours. Each time, he bringing along a couple of liquorice wands and sugar quills; Pansy's favorite kinds of sweets.

The following day, she emerged from her room with a look of determination on her face, demanding to go to the Order and determined to find her father. She was sure he was in one of their many estates so, with the help of Tonks, they formatted a plan of searching these estates in the quickest and safest manner. When it came to her father's life, Pansy admitted that she hoped for the best but expected the worst.

Hermione spent her evenings and most of her nights with Cantrell and Blaise. Most days were spent in the duelling room on the third floor. Compared to the color and life that immersed the first and second floor rooms, the dueling room was cold and slightly frightening—at first. It was bare of all things—portraits, rugs, tapestries, furniture and even windows. The only objects it held were defensive dueling attire in the back corner of the rectangular gray walls and a couple healing potions.

What began as a sense of foreboding upon entering the room quickly changed after a couple nights. It quickly became her place of solace—a place where she would forget about everything and focus on herself, her mental growth. She would challenge her mind to the point of exhaustion but she always left so very proud of the progress that she made while in that room—physically, mentally and emotionally, with the help of Andy and Blaise.

A lot of their shared time comprised of practicing their Cantrell Magic and learning to apply it to everyday use. Cantrell was the one to show both, Hermione and Blaise, how their powers could give them an upper hand while dueling. Cantrell emphasized that one's mind and magic are interdependent—one cannot function without the other, and this applied to everyone. Once they got into their opponent's mind, they already won half the battle. The last step was using that mental invasion to anticipate the opponents next move, block, disarm and bind.

He taught them how to anticipate a threat, sense a lie in another, even how to identify dark magic—all easily done by gaging the practically silent murmurs of emotion and magic that surrounded them on a daily basis.

As with everything, the more they practiced the better they became. Blaise had no problem gaging his surroundings, but taking control over a specific emotion, centering it and permeating it over a person or a group of people, proved to be the harder task. All in all, it was something he continuously worked on as Hermione also worked on mastering her own Cantrell Magic.

She steered away from invading a person's mind all together, focusing instead on controlling the emotive spaces that surround her on a day to day basis. She mastered control and did so easily. But, while she excelled in one part of her power, she terribly feared the practice of the other—in which Cantrell was very disappointed. He blatantly showed his displeasure and urged her to step out of her comfort zone—to not be afraid of the power behind her magic…

But, it proved to be easier said than done. She was trying and at _that_ , he was satisfied.

After practicing several rounds of duelling, until they were all _but_ nice to each other, the three of them would retire back to the first floor and into what Cantrell endearingly loved to call the Family Room. Compared to the other vast rooms of the Manor, Cantrell's family room was a lot smaller—a feature Hermione personally loved. The smaller space was cozier, and forced them to sit closer to each other although, nothing was ever forced when they went in there. The loud scarlet and gold furniture and decorations may have bothered the Slytherin at first, but Blaise eventually got used to it—evidently, after Andy changed his loveseat from scarlet red to emerald green.

The Family Room became a space to relax and let go. Each of them had something different weighing them down and it exhausted them—it clawed at them throughout the entire day, relentlessly trying to destroy their impassive composures.

Upon entering the room just five days ago, Hermione and Blaise were surprised to find the portrait of Andy and Mya sitting right above the fire place. The same portrait that Hermione tripped over her first night in the manor. The same portrait that never failed to bring a smile on her face whenever her eyes fell on Mya Cantrell's beaming face.

Cantrell didn't say a word about the sudden change, and neither did Blaise or Hermione. They merely shared a look and acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. Although Andy put the portrait there, he always sat so he was turned away from it. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by either of them

Once in the room, all talk of war, death, research and Voldemort was replaced with talk of Hogwarts, art, history, even literature. She wouldn't admit out loud, but in their company Hermione felt at upmost peace.

Malfoy stayed at the Cantrell Cottage with his mother. It didn't take a lot of convincing to get Cantrell to allow his Mrs. Malfoy to stay at the cottage. Hermione merely made the suggestion to Cantrell and, with Malfoy's permission, she took him to the site where his mother was hiding. Cantrell took it upon himself to go into the room to meet Mrs. Malfoy. When he came out only two minutes later, he ordered her to go back to the Cottage, prepare a room and have Billy make liquid based meals.

Blaise and Pansy would often sleep over to keep Malfoy company and sometimes she would tag along. It was a week before their return to Hogwarts and the feeling of change loomed over them. For the first time since receiving her Hogwarts letter, Hermione wasn't looking forward to starting a new term. None of them were. The Manor had just begun to feel like…home, and they were leaving it entirely too soon.

"Reckon we would be able to use the lockets within the castle walls?" Blaise asked, ringing the locket by the chain around his index finger. He had his head on Pansy's lap and she was unconsciously tracing the worry lines on his forehead. Hermione sat on the floor by his outstretched legs, her back to their seat and Malfoy just opposite her on the loveseat.

"I don't see why not." She replied.

"Think Dumbledore would know if we use it?"

"Doubt it." Malfoy said and she nodded in agreement. Dumbledore was still pestering him about the whereabouts of his mother, and Malfoy being a (surprisingly) skilled Occlumens, merely ensured him that she was safe—giving no affirmation that it was indeed Cantrell and Hermione that helped him, with the power of a simple locket.

Speaking of occlumency…

"How are the lessons going?" She asked Blaise, tilting her head in his direction only to find his narrowed eyes staring back at her. She hadn't heard a word about his occlumency lessons from him, which was a bad sign—she was quick to learn that Blaise was one to gloat, and if he wasn't gloating, he wasn't succeeding. So, predictably, he didn't like talking about it. Hermione tried to bring it up about a week ago, after he come out from another session just as upset as he the previous ones, and openly avoided the subject. His glare only further proved her point.

Thankfully Pansy and Malfoy were around. She figured they would help her get out whatever it was that was bothering him.

"Yeah Blaise, how are your 'spy' lessons going? I have yet to hear about it." Pansy asked in a teasing tone.

Blaise ignored her, his angry eyes still on Hermione, "I know what you're doing."

She merely raised an eyebrow in response. "Then save us all from the unnecessary argument."

After forty seconds of glaring, Blaise finally gave up, sighed tiredly and rubbed a hand over his face. In words barely above a whisper he said, "I don't want to do it anymore."

The silence that engulfed them was deafening. Out of everything she thought he would say, she was not expecting that. Hermione shared a panicked looked with Pansy, "What do you mean?" She said tentatively. "The Order needs you to do this. You can't just give up—"

"Not quit being a—" His voice increased a few notches, so he paused to gather his thoughts, then murmured, "I don't want to be a death eater. I want to stop going to the meetings. I want to stop reporting to _him._ I want the paranoia I feel every time I step out of this house to go away. I want the pain of-" He stopped suddenly, his pleading eyes practically begging Hermione to understand and drop the subject.

"I—you can't." She said softly, then turned to glance at Malfoy for affirmation, "Can you?"

Malfoy's frown only deepened, "You can…but no one does. He'll only track you Blaise and when he finds you, he will kill you. And if he finds you…he finds us."

Blaise only closed his eyes and leaned his head back onto the cushion. "Either way I'm a dead man. I can't do this anymore." He said again.

"Blaise, I know this isn't easy—"

His angry dark eyes were suddenly on her, "You don't know anything."

Hermione frowned and met him glare for glare. She grabbed the locket around her neck and said, "I know enough. I _feel_ it enough!"

He scowled at her a big longer, but his eyes slowly transitioned from an angry black to a cloudy gray. She felt the same frightened paranoia that she had become all too familiar with in the last couple weeks resurface.

Hermione gave him a pained looked. _I wish I could help_.

"I can't do it anymore. The sounds, the people, the torture—I-I can't. It's slowly driving me mad." The rawness in his voice brought tears to her eyes. "He's a monster."

Pansy's hand reach over and clasped her hand over his. "Have you told Andy about this?"

"He knows—he sees it in our lessons and he…understands. He understands why."

Malfoy began to shake his head, "You can't go back to Hogwarts. He has people there—"

"You're going back and I'm sure they see you just as much as a traitor as I will be to them—if I go through with this!" Blaise exclaimed, his voice rising again.

At the truth behind his words, Malfoy pressed his lips together.

"We have Dumbledore." Hermione said cautiously, after a tense moment of silence.

The boys groaned, "Hermione, Dumbledore—" Blaise started.

"I know you don't trust him." She quickly interrupted. "And we know he's fragile at the moment but he's still here! Put aside your animosity towards him for just a moment and think rationally—do you think Dumbledore would put his students in danger by letting death eaters stay within the grounds?" At their silence, she continued. "You know who all of the death eaters are Blaise. Just…tell Dumbledore. Tell him everything, and he'll know what to do."

Blaise sighed and for a moment he looked years older than he actually was. "Cantrell won't like that."

"This is a war," She looked down at her book and murmured quietly, "He can't win this war alone. _We_ can't win this war alone. He's going to have to ask for help sometime."

"I…I don't think winning this war is his focus." As soon as the words came out of Blaise's mouth, Hermione knew those words were for both his own and Cantrell's. She wasn't entirely surprised. The more she got to know the Slytherins the more she began to understand that not everyone was as self-sacrificing as Harry Potter. Blaise, Pansy and Malfoy had their own interest and reasons for not being on the dark side—fighting for muggleborns and ceasing all inequality towards them was not one of those reasons. No matter how much she hoped it would be.

She was hoping that their training and the time they spent together discussing the horrors that Voldemort brought to the Wizarding World would get rid of his paranoia…his fear. She was hoping it would make him stronger.

But staring at him now, he was as more frightened than ever before.

"Right then," He started, attempting to smile through the awkward silence. "I'm going to grab some tea and snacks from the kitchen, any of you want anything?"

"Billy won't let you—Andy gave him strict orders to stop giving you tea after midnight." The curly haired witch said, welcoming the change of subject.

"Of course."

"I'll go with you to try though, that elf loves me." Pansy volunteered.

The two of them scrambled out the room together, and Hermione had the slightest suspicion that sweet talking a house elf was the last thing they were going to do.

She heard Malfoy clear his throat and Hermione looked up from her book.

"I…um-" He hesitated and Hermione raised an eyebrow at the suddenly uncomfortable wizard. She almost laughed at the awkwardness. Did Blaise and Pansy plan to get leave them alone?

She snorted, and looked at him skeptically. "Could you all be any less obvious? That was rather tactful for a bunch of 'sly' Slytherins."

He grimaced at the truth behind her words and began to fidget with his family ring, which Hermione began to recognize was a nervous tick. Ignoring her incredulous tone completely, he said, "I… a thank you is long overdue….for helping my mother out. And bringing her here."

She waved him off. "That wasn't me. You can thank Cantrell."

"Without your encouragement, I doubt he would've helped me—helped her. So…thank you."

Hermione shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the sincerity in his voice. "I would've done it for anyone in her predicament," she dismissed. "Is she doing better?"

"I—yeah. A lot better. Your house elf—"

"He isn't my house elf." She interrupted with a scowl.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Well, the _Cantrell's_ house elf has been taking good care of her." A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. "Alexandros…he made a potion to reverse the curse. She still has a sharp pain in her chest…but she could walk and talk now, which is huge progress compared…" Malfoy trailed off and his smile disappeared, as if he said too much.

Ignoring his sudden wariness, Hermione smiled. "I'm glad."

He placed the book on his lap on the coffee table beside him then began fidgeting with his ring again. "She would like to thank you. Personally."

"Oh." She finally said, gnawing on her lower lip. "When?"

Being civil with one Malfoy was enough, but Mrs. Malfoy? Sick or not, Narcissa Malfoy was the most intimidating witch she ever had the misfortune of meeting all those years ago. She would be perfectly fine never running into her again. But of course, odds have never been in her favor.

But, then again, if she _just_ wanted to thank her…

"Anytime, but preferably soon—my mother is fairly impatient." He replied, a smirk slowly growing on his face—clearly pleased with the panic he heard in her voice. "Of course…I could just say you… had a prior engagement?" He raised a mocking brow, as if daring her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. Challenge accepted, prick.

"I would _love_ to speak to your mother."

He smiled smugly, "Perfect."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her book. After a beat of silence, she looked over her the top of the pages to find him still looking at her, almost lost in thought. She felt his growing uncertainty.

She sighed, "Spill it, Malfoy."

"You know, sitting on the floor, like _that_ , further ruins your horrid posture… though yours may be beyond repair." He said snidely. She felt heat rise to her cheeks and glared at him. "Try balancing a book on your head."

Hermione snorted, "I'm no Cinderella."

"Who?"

She sighed, "No one Malfoy. Leave me alone, I'm trying to read."

He placed his book back on the coffee table. Hermione took it as a sign that he will not be shutting up anytime soon and she mentally avada'ed herself. There was a reason she tried to not come around often.

She didn't know what to call it, but their…relationship, for lack of better words, was beyond that of mere individuals "forced" to share the same living quarters. Hermione wouldn't describe them as friends. Pansy yes, Blaise of course, but Malfoy…not quite. Sure, they had a moment a couple weeks back where he uninhibitedly confessed to what she was sure he considered to be his lowest point. But that was all it was. Just a moment. They never brought it up, and a moment like that night never came again.

The only thing that came close were sporadic conversations that often lead to longer than usual discussions. Like the one he was initiating now.

He was still unpleasant and wasn't scared to say something that'll hurt her feelings… but he was the same way with Blaise and Pansy so she just guessed that was just…him.

"You know, as a Cantrell you will be expected to look and act a certain way." Malfoy said, in a tersely.

"Expected by who?"

"The Wizarding World, Granger." He placed a hand on the arm of the sit and began to drum his fingers along the wooden edge. "I don't think you understand who the Cantrell's were—who they _now_ are expected to be _."_

Hermione, rather abruptly, closed her book shut. "There will be no expectation because the Cantrell's are dead. The _expectation_ is that they're six feet under, and it will stay that way until further notice."

"That's rich coming from someone who badgered Cantrell to stop being a coward." He said in a sarcastic tone. "What happens when the lie doesn't 'stick' anymore? What then? What happens when the truth comes out?"

"It isn't!"

"Rubbish!" He scowled.

"And why are you so sure that it will? Planning something Malfoy?" The icy look that came over his face almost made her regret her words, but she remained strong and met his glare.

"Are you really asking me that?" He finally sneered. "I took you for a smart witch Granger. Considering my situation, I have just as much to lose, probably even more, if word ever does get out. I was merely asking, for your sake and mine, because this cannot—it _will not_ —be kept a secret forever. The possibility needs to be addressed."

Hermione felt a pit of guilt grow in her stomach. He was right. If the Cantrell secret got out, it would be endangering not only her and her family, but also Pansy, his mother and himself. Malfoy's character may be accused, berated and attacked, but one positivity that was evidently clear about him was that he cared deeply for those he considered family. He almost became a different person when it came to protecting them.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm just…" Hermione sighed tiredly and let her head fall back on the couch.

"There's this…" She hesitated only because she didn't know how much of the truth was _too_ much. She was sure Blaise told him something, but again how much he told him was beyond her. "Cantrell gave Blaise and I back our…magic. It's family magic—sort of like a connection to—"

"Your familial bond?" Malfoy finished for her, a knowing look in his eye.

She bought her head back up and managed a small smile. "Yes, and it's something I've never felt before. It's wonderful, really. Magical…." She took a hold of her locket and looked at it fondly. "I've grown attached to them these last couple of weeks and as a result, along with the magic of the bond, I have become very protective over them. So, your comment, kind of sparked something in that connection because it felt... threatened."

He raised an eyebrow, "Them? I thought Cantrell's bond was broken when-"

"That's just the thing," She interrupted quietly. "The very fact that I _think_ I can feel Andy's bond…unsettles me."

The confusion that settled over his face made her sigh.

"He—seventeen years ago, when Andy supposedly died, he…" She paused, deciding on how to say her words without saying too much. "Something happened that destroyed his bond with Blaise and I. So, we shouldn't feel any kind of bond with him either, but…I do."

"So the potion that saved Cantrell, wasn't supposed to revive his bond to you….but you still feel its presence?" Malfoy summarized and she narrowed her eyes. How did he know about the potion?

As if reading her mind, Malfoy rolled his eyes saying, "Blaise told me everything."

"Does that boy keep any secrets!?"

"He hasn't mentioned anything about this bond, so I imagine he does."

Hermione almost smiled at his quick defense for his friend.

"Have you spoken to Cantrell about this?"

"No…mostly because I only feel a very small tug of magic. Nothing with much substance—and compared to all the other things that have been on my mind lately, it quickly falls to the back of my mind." She said quietly. "That is, up until yesterday. When Blaise went off to one of his meetings, I felt this kind of imbalance. I could sense Blaise's nervousness, as I always do since the bond was restored, from the moment he walked out the door. That was normal. But what threw me off, was that that previously miniscule feeling suddenly had a big presence." The sensation was still very fresh in her mind-the odd feeling of very one of her nerves just… calmed, as if she was sedated. It was very close to the feeling she got from Malfoy back at the Order headquarters a couple weeks ago, not that she was about to tell him that. Besides, what she felt yesterday was a lot stronger, so it had to be Cantrell. "It gave me a sense of calming and its presence was demanding—there was strength there."

A small frown had stitched itself to Malfoy's face the entire time she spoke. "I've never heard of a bond resurrecting itself, especially not familial bonds. Marriage bonds, there's a possibility there, but…" He trailed off, in deep thought.

Hermione merely nodded her head in agreement, "I also did some research and came to that same conclusion. But, considering the family I'm referring to and the magic that it holds…I've come to realize anything's possible."

A silence lapsed over them. While Malfoy was deep in thought, Hermione's mind drifted off. A fond memory tickled her brain and before she could stop herself, she was telling it aloud.

"In the muggle world," She began. "There are stories written, plays preformed and movies made about magic. Most of them come from incredibly creative minds, or who knows, maybe they have seen or even been a part of the wizarding world. When I was younger, I was one of those kids who believed and hoped for the existence of another world. A world where witches and warlocks did magic and unicorns and centaurs roamed freely…And my-my parents would relentlessly tell me it's all a fantasy, 'get your mind out of the clouds Hermione!' my dad would say," She smiled at the memory. "So you can only imagine how elated I was when my Hogwarts letter arrived. I didn't find it weird or abnormal, I didn't fear it nor did I ever doubt or reject the idea…it felt like an invitation to go back to a place that I was ripped apart from. And I readily took the opportunity." She heard him shift in his seat. Maybe he was uncomfortable with her speaking about such personal things—muggle things. Something he clearly didn't understand or otherwise hated…

She dismissed the thought and continued, "Anyway my point being: nothing about this world surprises me anymore. Everything is possible in the wizarding world. There's so much to learn and so much to love that... the only reason I even ended up in front of the Cantrell Manor weeks ago was because I felt that same feeling. I felt like I was being given an invitation again, and invitation to find and fill a missing puzzle piece that I never knew existed until my mum gave me that letter." A small tug on her chest that she hadn't felt in so long, stopped her. After a couple deep breaths, she continued very quietly. "I don't know if you know this Malfoy, but compared to the muggle world, the wizarding world is minuscule; just a couple small plots of space in an otherwise very, _very_ big planet. And in this enormous planet, there isn't many that the gift of magic is given to, so to be given such a tremendous and powerful bit of magic it's….indescribable, even after all of these years, wouldn't you say?"

Hermione looked at him expectedly, but his face only mirrored that of what she would imagine is the face of most pureblood wizards when it came to discussing the limitlessness and privileges magic—bored and slightly disgusted.

She felt kind of silly, going off on such a tangent, and with Malfoy nonetheless. The witch chuckled, "Merlin, I forgot who I was talking to."

He shrugged, "No, I understand. It just…I don't see it like you do."

She quirked up, "What do you mean?"

"Magic. It's unpredictable and great really, as you say. But just as it is light, it is dark. Just as we are the chosen few to be born with such a gift…the magic that runs through your veins can be taken away. Stolen. And _magic_ …magic, is why were stuck in this war anyway, isn't it? Magic has been the cause of many deaths."

Hermione frowned, "Magic doesn't kill people Draco. People kill people."

He didn't say anything for a while and just as she turned her attention back to her book, he said, "He's stronger than you think."

"Who is?"

"Blaise. You may think he's taking one big step backwards but…just give him time. Don't give up on him now."

After a beat of silence, she found herself asking a question that had been on her mind since finding out he was bare of a dark mark. "H-how has this been so easy for you? You almost look comfortable, switching to the Order's side…helping us." Her eyes met his own cloudy gray orbs, and she felt the very similar sense of stillness and tranquility that almost felt peaceful. The feeling was familiar, she felt it back in the Order Headquarters a couple weeks back when the same look he was giving her now saved her from a panic attack. What frightened her was that this feeling quickly came over her with just a look into his eyes…

"I'm not." He said simply, without a shred of shame and clearly not affected by what she was feeling at all. "I'm not out risking my life Granger. I'm just trying to ensure that my mother and I make it out this war. Alive."

It wasn't until Pansy and Blaise returned only a minute later that she realized the memory of her parents didn't give her a panic attack. And for the first time it didn't…hurt.

* * *

The last week at the Cantrell Manor flew by rather quickly. Two days after their discussion at the Cottage, Blaise told Andy that he wanted to speak to Dumbledore about his problems as death eater

It took Cantrell twelve hours to consent to allowing the conversation to happen—with the provision that Cantrell be in attendance for the meeting. Upon their return, was a grim faced Cantrell and an even more distressed Blaise.

A simple "I can do this," from him ensured her that Dumbledore ignited the bravery in Blaise that she was desperately trying to find all summer. Maybe Dumbledore's past actions were redeemable.

The morning that they were due to return to Hogwarts was a somber one. Cantrell had their usual breakfast waiting for them but this one was a lot quieter than usual. Hermione was scared of what he would do once he was alone in the Manor again—all those years spent in solitude must have caused some kind of mental damage. She didn't want him to turn back into the man that she met at the beginning of the summer—this stronger, more confident one was only just beginning to recover.

The three of them arrived at Platform nine and three-quarters separately. Hermione joined Harry, Ron, Neville and Luna in their compartment, but quickly found that she would rather be elsewhere. Although it was nice seeing Neville and Luna after so long, she felt…out of place in their presence—which only worsened when Ginny came in with Seamus. She couldn't even find it in herself to blame Ron for her discontent. The summer mended some of their friendship—he had awkwardly apologized one day after her daily duels with Harry, and she had forgiven him. Things were still tense and she didn't know how long they would remain that way, but he wasn't the reason why she found herself asking for Harry's invisibility cloak after only thirty-three minutes of making small talk about the nearly empty Hogwarts Express and bringing back Dumbledore's Army.

She thought maybe it was the fact that so much had changed since the last time they were all together. Or maybe it was because all the secrets she was keeping from everyone in the compartment, including Harry, made her feel guilty. Or maybe it was the fact that Neville kept giving her a pitying look whenever Voldemort, Death Eaters or family came up.

Maybe it was a combination of all these things, but one thing was certain was that as soon as Harry gave her his cloak, without any questions and a knowing look on his face, she found herself walking toward the end of the Hogwarts Express, where most of the Slytherins sat. She peered through the small compartment windows as she went. She found the trio sitting at the beginning of the Slytherin side and dodged Draco's hex when her invisible hand opened the compartment door.

"Paranoid much?" She said after casting a Notice-Me-Not charm on the window and removing the cloak.

"A bit." He grunted. She rolled her eyes. He had been in such a foul mood since breakfast that morning. Both Blaise and Draco wanted nothing to do with returning to Hogwarts, and the forced conversation from the pair of them made breakfast very awkward. It only worsened when Pansy began to refer to Draco as a "Mum's Boy." He only glowered at her then at Hermione for her obnoxious laugh

"I knew you wouldn't last long with those Gryfindorks. Pansy bet an hour—I said fifteen minutes"

"And you lost," Said the witch, kicking him in the shin.

"I was closer then you were."

Hermione took a seat opposite of Malfoy, "How do you deal with their immaturity?"

"Muffling charm." Malfoy grunted some more. The other three rolled their eyes.

Turning to Pansy and Blaise, she asked, "How bad is it on this side?"

"It isn't. I can't tell if everyone too scared or just planning something horrid for when we're actually confined in the castle." Pansy replied.

"I feel as though they're still scared of me."

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Of course they are Draco." He said sarcastically.

Hermione bit her lip, "Seems odd. Diabolical plan or not, you should've gotten some bad apples thrown at you already."

"Bad apples?" Pansy asked, clearly devoid of any muggle references.

Hermione laughed and went to explain the reference to her when a bright light floated through the compartment door. The four of them reached for their wands, prepared to attack until they realized it was a messenger patronus. It began to form into a wide pair of wings and sharp beak and took the form of an enormous eagle. Its bright wings expanded from one side of the compartment to the other, and the length of its body coming up to their shoulders. Its sharp eyes scanned the compartment before falling on Blaise and Hermione, then it opened its beak.

It wasn't the size of the patronus that drained all color from their faces, nor was it the surprise of its presence. It was Andy's low and somber message; "Dumbledore has been murdered. The Order Headquarters and its members have been compromised. Come home. Come home, now."


	18. Chapter 18

The Secret

**Part Two: Disclosure**

Chapter Eighteen

ox SM xo

* * *

As predicted, Narcissa Malfoy turned out to be the very essence of self-assurance and elegance, even in her sickly state. Hermione made sure Malfoy was out of the cottage, and would be for the next couple of hours, every time she went down the hall to his mother's room. That evening in particular, she knew he wouldn't show up to the cottage any time soon. So, in keeping to her promise, Hermione found herself sitting on a comfortable loveseat beside the bed, tea at hand and making idle conversation with the wife of a death eater.

"Does it still hurt?" Hermione asked after a comfortable silence. Narcissa reached over to her bedside table and picked up her cup of tea. Malfoy told her his mother was doing a lot better but looking at Narcissa now, Hermione was terrified to know what she looked like before.

There was an unhealthy paleness to her—her skin almost a sickly green. Her once long, thick black hair was piled off to the side and lacked the luster the young witch vividly remembered it had just a couple years ago. Her slender fingers also struggled to keep hold of the cup; it shook in her hands. Hermione almost reached out and fed the tea for her, but the look in Narcissa's eyes warded her off. While she looked physically sick, Narcissa's bright blue eyes held a strength and confidence that sometimes made Hermione question whether her sickly appearance was all a fluke.

"What one would assume hurts, doesn't—not really." She said in a bit of a raspy voice. Malfoy also warned her that her speech wasn't very strong, but assured her to not be dissuaded to make conversation because of it. Hermione eventually got used to it. The harder task was his second warning; under no circumstances was she allowed to pity his mother. Hermione tried her hardest not to, but seeing Narcissa now and knowing how much it hurt Malfoy to see his mother like this…she felt a bit of sympathy, for the both of them.

"The physical pain I can deal with, but emotionally…it's been rather difficult." She explained.

Hermione remained silent, which had become an automatic response whenever Narcissa would get personal. In part, she was always shocked when certain things came out of her mouth. She expected the same closed off nature that Malfoy (up until a couple weeks ago) had with her.

Also, Hermione never knew how to respond.

"I love him, you know, after all that has happened. It's…a fact that Draco is insanely frustrated with. He doesn't seem to understand…" She trailed off in deep thought. Hermione couldn't help but sympathize with Malfoy's anger. She also didn't understand how Mrs. Malfoy could still love a man who, without hesitation, left her for dead. Who forced so much unreasonable wickedness on their son?

"But he left you for dead."

She smiled meekly at her, "I'm still alive though, aren't I?"

"Because of a potion! Not because of _him_. That curse would've killed you a long time ago if it weren't for Andy." Narcissa only sighed tiredly—they've gone through this numerous times but to no avail. Narcissa still believed that Lucius didn't Avada her for a reason—he wanted her to live. He 'let' her live because he 'loved' her.

Hogwash in Hermione's opinion. Draco's too.

"Would you," Hermione started a bit hesitantly, "go back to him?"

The witch sighed tiredly. "If the malice and evil is gone and the man I love appears before me…yes, yes I would." She paused then chucked. "But Draco would never allow it. My son…he's a very possessive boy—very overprotective. But for well enough reasons."

"I've noticed." She responded. After spending so much time with the Slytherin trio, Hermione noticed Malfoy's quick defense over his two friends. It was a characteristic that she would've never expected from him—from any of them really. Especially considering it went against the whole 'self-preservation' attitude many Slytherins seemed to have.

Narcissa's eyes quickly looked up at her, an ecstatic smile resting on her face. "I'm glad."

Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks, "I didn't mean it that way, he-" She stopped to clear her throat as her voice had gotten unnaturally high. "What I mean to say is, I've seen how he is with Pansy and Blaise—but I don't believe that same attitude applies to me…I don't know if he has told you this, but Mal-Draco and I, aren't exactly friends."

The sudden sadness that come over the older witches face surprised her. "You're the one who helped me out of that horrid place, I just assumed… Draco speaks of you as if the both of you are…close."

If her face was red before she wondered what color it was now. Draco had never come up in their previous conversations and it felt kind of awkward speaking of him with someone who held him in such great esteem; Hermione chose her words carefully. "I am happy to hear that, truly. But your son and I didn't have the best…friendship growing up." She paused. "You see, as you may already know, I—was a muggle-born. A muggle-born in Gryffindor house and best friends with Harry Potter."

The sudden understanding that came over Narcissa's face was unmissable. "I'm sorry." She finally said. "For anything that he might've done or said to you in the past. It's very hard to deter from something that is mentally embedded into you by—by your parents at such a young age."

Hermione nodded, acknowledging the fact that she admitting to having the same prejudice mentality that many other pureblooded families shared.

"I'm learning." She said quietly after a pregnant pause. "Your father has been very helpful in this process. Not only with the potion, but he has given me some insight."

Hermione stiffened only slightly at the use of 'father' which remained something that she had yet gotten use to. Recently, for the Order members who didn't know much about her past, it was increasingly becoming a habit for them to refer to Cantrell as her father. She thought it went unnoticed and it usually did, but Narcissa Malfoy was very observant, even in her sickly state.

"Ah," she tutted. "He told me about that."

"Told you what?" Hermione inquired in a bit of a defensive tone.

"Oh, don't get so defensive! There's only so much time a man can spend with a group of teenagers before he goes mad. He needs to vent to someone." Her tone was light—she was teasing her. Hermione didn't smile.

Noticing the shift of attitude, Narcissa tried to smile her way through Hermione's now icy exterior. "Mr. Cantrell comes to visit me almost on a daily basis." She explained, "He's doing a fantastic job at showing me why the prejudices against muggle—"

Oh here we go again, Hermione thought angrily. Prejudices and war was always a soft spot for both of them due to their opposing positions of the matter. Narcissa usually steered clear of that subject but today was clearly the exception.

"Excuse me Ms. Malfoy but if you don't see how 'bad' it is on your own, I don't believe there's any hope for you to obtain anything from Andy's visits." She said coolly.

Narcissa's eyes widened in surprise, "I've upset you."

When Hermione said nothing, Narcissa sighed and put down her cup of tea. "Perhaps my words came out wrong—though you never let me finish." She said, shooting her an accusatory look. "I know what the Dark Lord is doing to all those people is wrong—its evil it's…this is war. And the mere reason for this war is ridiculous yet so many agree that war against muggles and muggle-borns is the only way to remain on 'top' _but_ , "she paused, taking a deep breath."I—well, what I think Cantrell is trying to do is have me pick a side and…that is something that I haven't been able to do. I'd rather stay in the middle—I'd rather my son and I live."

Hermione's icy exterior slowly melted away. Narcissa Malfoy wasn't a threat—she was merely a mother. A mother so afraid of what would become of her family when this horrific war was over.

"Funny," Hermione said softy. "Draco told me the same thing a couple weeks ago." But a lot had changed since that day, and Hermione wondered when Draco would be telling his mother of this switch of sides.

Narcissa smiled, "See? Not all of his qualities are from his father. That deep sense of rationality he gets sometimes? That's from me." She paused. "We don't have a place in this war, Hermione. And if Draco picks to work with the Order…his chances of survival and returning back to me are far less than yours."

There was a beat of silence and Hermione almost felt guilty for keeping Draco's secret.

"We're going to win." She eventually said quietly but with the strength of a thousand soldiers. "Things may not be very bright right now…but we're going to win."

Narcissa's smile grew brighter. "You have so much of your parents in you."

Slightly hesitant, Hermione asked "You knew Mya?"

"I knew her as Mariah, but yes I did. In passing and mostly at social events. She was a couple years my younger at Hogwarts—I met her through Leilani Catalano, who later become Blaise's guardian. The two families—the Catalanos and Marlones—were fairly close. Most of them live in Italy. Leilani only came to London for school or social events. Same for Mariah. Oh, I was recently telling Blaise the same!" She smiled. "He's a spitting image of her, you know? Except the eyes. You have the same brown, analytical eyes that she use to stare everyone down with," Narcissa said with a chuckle. "The Marlone's were known for their practice in the Dark Arts. They were very active during the Grindlewald era but haven't been heard of much since then. I think Mya's brother was a death eater during the first war but no one knows what happened to him after the Dark Lord vanished the first time. Mya's father in particular, Abigor Marlone, was a scary man. People walked the other way if they saw him coming down the hall. He did love his daughter though. The rare moments that I saw that man smile was with Mya—but that was before she went to Hogwarts." Narcissa frowned. "When he started hearing that his daughter, _the_ daughter of Abigor Marlone, was getting friendly with the heir of Cantrell house, it broke his heart.

"The Cantrell's don't usually go to Hogwarts, so having Alexandros around was interesting to say the least. He kept to himself most of the time and only spoke to a select few. Never saw him get into trouble. Mari-Mya on the other hand was a Slytherin, did you know?" She asked and Hermione nodded. "She was very rebellious in her youth and I admit that's why I kept my distance from her. Clever and rebellious—as there can't be one without the other. Mya was wild and unruly. Alexandros was quiet and reserved. It was forbidden then, as I'm sure it is now, to see a Slytherin so involved with a Gryffindor. They should've been polar opposites, knowing the families that they came from. But…seeing them together, you would never guess that. I wonder sometimes how it is that they met. But I guess that's something we will never know unless we ask…"

Narcissa suddenly looked back at her, as if remembering she was there. "I've rambled, haven't I?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "No, not at all. It's nice to hear about them…about her." She looked down at her cup. "Cantrell doesn't talk much about her and I don't like to ask." It's not that Hermione wasn't curious about her biological mother because she very much was. Mya was just as a mystery as the Cantrell family, probably more so. But every time her name or anything related to her came up she would feel the overbearing pain and anguish that he still felt from her loss and absence in their new family.

"This beats talk about bonds and traditions, does it not?" Narcissa joked and Hermione laughed in response.

There was a brief silence between them. A comfortable one, where they were both too wrapped in their own thoughts and memories.

"He loves you very much, you know? You and Blaise…you're his life."

Hermione smiled, "I know."

* * *

After another thirty minutes of light chatter, Narcissa fell into her evening nap and Hermione slowly tiptoed out to the room. It was the fourth time she visited Narcissa in less than two weeks. One meeting was never the same and that was Hermione's favorite part of their conversations. Since Dumbledore's death, conversations with Narcissa were less urgent, less frightening and less demanding compared to everything else.

The death of Albus Dumbledore was felt throughout the entire wizarding world; from the UK, to the wizarding world in Africa and even America. Those mourning his death were left with little time to recover. The threat of Voldemort increased when he quickly took over the ministry just forty-eight hours after Dumbledore's death. Many wizards and witches quickly packed their bags and left England soon after. There were new laws being passed that demanded for muggle-borns to have their magic 'evaluated.' A new list of undesirables was also published; the first being Harry potter, the second Hermione Granger and the third, Ronald Weasley.

Once her face was all over the prophet, Cantrell tried to lock her in the manor but didn't succeed. It proved unnecessary as no one had seen or heard from any of the undesirables since their escape off the Hogwarts Express; they weren't even seen at Dumbledore's memorial.

After receiving Cantrell's message on the Hogwarts Express, Hermione quickly sprang into action. With the magic of the locket, Blaise took both Pansy and Draco back to the Manor, while Hermione hid under the invisibility cloak and ran back to Harry's compartment. They were all in the middle of laughing at Dean's joke when Hermione barged in. A combination of panic and sadness on her face.

"What happened?" Harry asked, standing up with this wand clutched tightly in his hand. Ron quickly followed.

She relayed Cantrell's message and was immediately bombarded with question and exclamations of disbelief from everyone except Harry, who remained silent.

"We," She finally managed to interject, pointing to both of the wizards standing, "need to go. Now!"

And with a promise from Neville that they'll fight on their behalf should anything happen to Hogwarts, Hermione threw their stuff into her extendable bag, then covered the three of them with the invisibility cloak and apparated to the cottage. The manor only allowed for the entrance of Cantrell, Blaise, Pansy, Malfoy and herself; she had no desire of finding out what would happen should she try to bring Harry and Ron through any of the extra enchantments that Cantrell set up.

After sending a patronus to Cantrell of her location, she turned to Harry.

"You knew?" She questioned quietly.

He hesitated, "He's been acting…odd as of late. Constantly reminding me that he wouldn't be around forever…or giving me advice as if…" he trailed off. "The curse of the ring was worsening, though he didn't admit it. He fainted on that last mission we went on, but blamed it on old age."

Harry raised his eyes to meet hers, "Who did it?"

"No clue. Cantrell didn't go into much detail. Have you any clue of his whereabouts. Last I heard of him was a few days ago, when he was meeting with Blaise."

"He was at the Order Headquarters this morning, went off somewhere with Moody…"

"Do you reckon its Snape? He hasn't' been seen since the incident on the tower. Dumbledore hasn't even mentioned him—" Ron started but was quickly interrupted by Hermione.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. Cantrell should be here any second—"

"—and he said the Order was compromised! It had to be either of them and we know for a fact it couldn't have been Moody—"

"You're right Mr. Weasley, It wasn't Moody." Cantrell appeared just behind him, an unreadable expression on his face.

It was in fact Severus Snape. Dumbledore went to a village, just outside of the Lestrange Manor when they were ambushed by Snape, Bellatrix and Rabastan. Moody barely survived. He was hit with a curse that slowly ate at his insides but was able to apparate out of the village and back to Hogwarts, taking Dumbledore's body with him. He was greeted by McGonagall, who was able to contact the Order and take Moody to St. Mungos—he died only hours later.

Harry and Ron quickly took residence in the Cottage, much to the displeasure of Malfoy, who bickered with Ron every chance he got (lowly of course, so his mother wouldn't hear him). Harry took her old room while Ron took Blaise's ("Slytherin cooties," he complained). With the help of other Order members, they took turns empting Grimmauld Place of anything that they needed-which admittedly wasn't much.

The problem then became a lack of a meeting place for the Order to keep up to date with all the information they were obtaining in their fight against the Death Eaters. Dumbledore instilled fear to the dark side and with him gone, the Death Eaters were relentless and attacked practically every day. Many of the Order members looked to appoint a new Leader of the Order of Phoenix to the next most powerful wizard they had in their ranks; Alexandros Cantrell.

Hermione quickly rushed down the hall, then the first floor to see if anyone was in the Cottage but found it empty. Maybe she had lost track of time…looking up at the large grandfather clock, she saw it was ten past eight. She was late.

Quickly grabbing a hold of the locket, Hermione apparated to a corner on Oxford Street at the West end of London. Walking swiftly past all of the tourist, she took a left on Holles Street and entered the side entrance of a six-story building. Waving at Brunel the front desk security, a stubby German man with a hard face but the friendliest green eyes, she made her way down the long hallway to the last elevator which had a sign that read 'out of service.'

"You're late Miss, they're all here."

"Thanks Bruns." With a tap of her wand the doors opened up and she quickly entered. Taking a deep breath, Hermione pressed the 'B' button then quickly took a strong hold of the railings with both hands. As soon as the doors closed, the elevator rocketed straight down, made a couple swift right turns, and then rocketed down some more. After what felt like an eternity, it came to a stop and opened up again.

Letting go of the death grip she had on the railing and muttering about stupid elevators, Hermione quickly jumped out to a short, brightly colored hall that led to another door.

In hasty strides she went through the door and was immediately hit with the smell of rich dark soil. Though there was nothing earthy about the room she just entered beside the fact that it was several feet below ground. The 'room' had three floors and was shaped like a cylinder. She felt like she was in a prison—the gray color of the walls, floor and ceiling only added to her distaste. Personally, Hermione hated it. Railings aligned the upper two floors and each floor had five very spacious rooms that were called 'escape rooms.' Similar to that of the Room of Requirement, the escape rooms converted to one of three things; a dueling center, a quiet space that consisted of a couple lamps, tables and chairs, or a bedroom. Dissimilar in that it could _only_ transform into those three spaces. The railings overlooked the very center of the first floor and as she peered over she saw tops of twenty very recognizable heads sitting around an ironclad table on the first floor.

She heard the deep, low mumble of Kingsley's voice and with silent steps, she made her way down.

"—there haven't been any raids in the last fifty-two hours which is the biggest break we've gotten since Dumbledore's murder-"

"That isn't good, every time they take a break. Something disastrous happens." Lupin interrupted.

"Worse than the murder of a muggle-born's family? Every crime they commit is equally disastrous Remus." Molly tutted.

"A family versus a whole neighborhood being murdered Molly? I am not trying to say one's less important or less devastating then the other. I'm saying we must prepare ourselves for what's to come after this little 'break.'"

Hermione chose then to make her presence known, before an argument broke out.

"Good evening everyone." She said quietly.

"Nice of you to join us, Ms. Granger," said McGonagall. Ever the professor, she gave Hermione displeased shake of her head at her tardiness.

"I apologize professor, I got held up." She replied though she looked at Cantrell to show that all was alright. He nodded in response but the slight anxiety he was feeling didn't go away. She made her way to her spot between Pansy and Blaise but was surprised to find Blaise's seat missing. Reaching for her locket in panic, she turned to Pansy

"Brunel told me everyone was here. How long has he been out?" she quietly muttered, not wishing to bring further attention to herself.

"That squib knows nothing." Pansy rolled her eyes, but she sounded equally as worried as Hermione. "I saw him right before he went to his meeting around elven this morning. I thought he would be stopping at the Cottage, then coming here with you."

Hermione looked up in search for Malfoy and found his gaze already on her. And as if he knew exactly what that pair of them were whispering about, he shrugged his shoulders only slightly to affirm that he also had no idea where Blaise was.

"He didn't." Hermione said, turning her attention back to Pansy

"Obviously."

Hermione gave her a look and Pansy sighed. "Sorry, I'm just worried. I get a bit-"

"Bitchy? I know." Hermione reached her locket again, held it tightly and found him. His quiet presence. It comforted her nerves—a bit. Usually, she would be able to feel Blaise's distress, though the last two weeks he got impressively better at controlling his mind and emotions.

As if Dumbledore's death was what he needed to finally be confident in the side that he had chosen, Blaise trained the hardest Hermione had ever seen since meeting him in July. His occumlency skills vastly improved and most of his lessons were with Malfoy now, which spoke well of Malfoy's own skills.

"I—think he's alright." She reassured Pansy. Just then the entrance door upstairs creaked open and they both heaved a sigh of relief while everyone else at the table tensed up.

For the umpteenth time, Hermione felt a flash of anger surge through her. Since it was declared that Snape had killed Dumbledore the whole Order firmly pressed that they did not want to work with any death eaters; no spies, no dark marks, no prejudiced purebloods. So naturally, Blaise, Draco and Pansy were treated very poorly though only one of them was a death eater. Even with the reassurance from Cantrell that he trusted them more than anyone else at the table, and the additive fact that Blaise was his son, most of the Order members remained cautious and questioned every action and information that Blaise provided.

Which also added to his sudden drive; Blaise was the only spy the Order had. It was up to him to change their viewpoints on people that they were uncertain of. Which along with himself, were the people closest to him—Draco and Pansy.

Hermione had lost count of how many times she wanted tell them that if it wasn't for Dumbledore, Blaise wouldn't be a death eater. That he would be as unmarked as everyone else at the table, but she bit her tongue every time.

All conversation ceased as Blaise climbed off the last step and made his way to sit between Cantrell and Hermione. He seemed deep in thought and didn't meet the eyes of anyone at the table, which had become normal when he came from a Death Eater meeting.

It also became routine for Cantrell to rest a hand on his forearm, as the Order member continued to discuss tactics. It was a precaution; to see if there was anything that went on in the meeting was privileged to the whole order at their weekly meetings, or just a chosen few.

The hardened look that immediately crossed Andy's face told her that whatever he saw, was not good.

"I think we had a long enough briefing. Those who want to stay and practice occumlency with Mr. Doge are welcomed to do so on the second floor, room C. Everyone else back to your day. I'll see you all next week." The sudden dismissal of the meeting brought a round of murmurs around the table as people slowly began to stand and take their leave. Mr. Elphias Doge, who Cantrell said was a very old friend of the family and he trusted wholeheartedly, smiled meekly at Cantrell as a handful of people lined up to follow him.

"Belle, Nate, Potter, Malfoy, Kingsley, McGonagall and the youngest Weasley —stay." Promising Pansy that she'll fill her in later, Hermione watched her walk off with Tonks and Remus. Once the room was empty, and Kinglsey flicked his wand to ensure they weren't overheard.

Everyone's eyes were trained on Blaise, who sat up to attention.

"He wants to use my mum's estate, in Italy. As another headquarter of sorts."

There was a brief silence as they tried to figure out what that meant.

"Italy? But that's far from London, why would he want to go out there?" Ron asked the question that was probably going through all of their heads, including Hermione's.

"I don't know. I think he wants to hide something there. We—the Zabini's—have an estate in Wiltshire, by Draco's home, that's been empty since my parents died but he doesn't want to use that He asked for the Italy estate; Catalano property. Which comparably, is a lot smaller."

"Less wizarding laws in Italy too—there isn't much regulation." Kingsley added.

"Does he want to hide something?" McGonagall inquired.

"I'm assuming so. He asked what kind of security we had there. A lot of it is old magic, blood magic."

"Is there a reason he asked you?"

"Compared to everyone else, I have the most to my name. My mum's families still in Italy. There's wealth, resources. I-" He hesitated. "I think he's trying to recruit the families there."

Hermione felt unease settle over her. "Do you think... does he know?" She asked, her eyes moving from Blaise to Cantrell.

Andy shook his head. "I—he can't. But either way this isn't good. Have you ever been to Italy?"

"I've been once, with my father, when I was about nine years old. We went to the Quidditch World Cup that was being held there and he decided to stay at her estate. Mum was furious and never let me go back. They separated a couple weeks after."

Blaise suddenly locked eyes with Hermione and she saw the same panic that just surged though her. "He wants me and a couple others to go to Italy—even put me in charge of the whole thing; the estate security and recruiting-"

Hermione was already shaking her head, "you can't go." She exclaimed. "I-you look like the Marlone family! You're a spitting image of Mya! They're bound to recognize you and start making some connections!" She turned to Cantrell, "He can't go!"

Blaise's panicked stare turned into an angry glare. "There's no option. I have to. Even if he somehow _suspects_ to know who I am, not going through with this will increases what little suspicion he may have!"

"There must be another way around it! A disillusionment potion—"

"There isn't." said Blaise plainly.

"But-"

"Hermione." interrupted Draco in a cautionary tone. He was sitting back in his seat and to everyone he looked perfectly at ease but she knew he was all but. And maybe she was spending too much time with the Malfoys or maybe he was becoming easier to read but she knew exactly what he was trying to tell her; _stop_. She was lacking the control that Cantrell stressed was necessary to have in front of the Order—and/or anyone that wasn't him, Blaise, Pansy or Malfoy. 'Distress of any kind, is something to be shared, confined and resolved with family. Not strangers,' Andy would say in a mechanical, yet stern tone. She assumed it was one of those 'rules' drilled into his head as a son of the Wizarding World's most secretive family.

Hermione considered most of the Order family, but she understood his precaution and promised to limit any emotional outburst—mostly because panic usually caused fear and disorder…something they didn't need any more of.

"He right." Draco continued, "He can't back out. The Dark Lord may be a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. If Blaise backs out, he would want to know why and someone digging around is the last thing we need."

Stumped, Hermione sat back down. She suddenly wished Pansy was there to back her up.

"I-I think I know what he's trying to hide." Harry said, surprising Hermione. She looked at him quizzically, and he gave her a curt nod.

He was going to tell them.

They had been arguing on and off over telling the Order about Voldemort's Horcruxes. Harry didn't want anyone involved—mostly because he didn't want to put anyone in danger for a mission that Dumbledore left for him to complete. Hermione thought it was ridiculous—they had the advantage of Cantrell's vast knowledge and heirs to some of the oldest and darkest wizarding families in history; they were bound to know something about Horcruxes or a clue as to where Voldemort may have hidden them.

But, she understood his hesitation. It meant working with people that were once his most hated enemy and trusting someone on the opposite side was a mistake that ended up killing Dumbledore.

Hermione managed a small smile through her anger and nodded for him to continue.

"As many of you know, I am the only one that can defeat Voldemort and before Dumbledore died, he…he told me how to do it so…so that he never returns."

Cantrell sat up in his seat. The joy that she felt was undeniably his. "How?"

Harry sighed, "It's complicated. He used a curse to split his soul." Hermione heard McGonagall's gasp "Which is why he survived time and time again, but not into one or two, but seven. Each piece of his soul was transferred into six different objects and the last piece of his soul remained within him; Dumbledore referred to it as a Horcrux. Its—"

"A powerful object in which a wizard or witch hides a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. It gives one the ability to anchor one's own soul to earth if the body was destroyed." Cantrell finished for him, his eyes gleaming in wonder, as he proceeded the new information. "How did Dumbledore figure that out?"

Harry adjusted his glasses, clearly uncomfortable with sharing secrets that were between him and his mentor. "I-He…old memories. Mostly." He said, giving a short and less complicated answer.

"So he split his soul into…seven? Six objects and is still holding on to the last piece?" Kingsley asked in a bit of an incredulous tone.

"Yes. And in order for me to kill him, I need to kill all six Horcruxes… then I'll be able to kill the last piece and ultimately… him."

"How do you destroy a Horcrux?" At this point Kingsley looked completely bewildered.

"Fiendfyre or basilisk venom." Cantrell answered.

"Well, have you? Do you have all six?" Malfoy asked. There was hope in his voice.

Harry slowly shook his head. "No. only three."

"Three? That's almost half! What were they?" Cantrell asked.

"Voldemort placed pieces of his soul in things that have some kind of sentimental value. The first was a diary, second was his grandfather's ring and the third was Salazar Slytherin's Locket. The locket was the last Horcrux we knew of. Dumbledore and I spent all summer searching for it and found it. He destroyed it with the Fiendfyre curse two nights before he died…it took a lot of what was left of his strength to do it… But I'm assuming Voldemort's going to hide at least one of them at your estate Zabini."

"And who knows of this information?" Cantrell eyes flickered to Hermione then back to Harry.

"Now that Dumbledore is gone…Hermione, Ron, myself…and now, all of you."

Silence gripped the whole table as everyone wrapped their head around all of the information that was just fed to them. Hermione looked around the table to see expressions of horror, confusion…she was surprised to see a smile grow on Cantrell's face. "A Horcrux, as you can imagine, is Dark Magic. Very few know about it, so naturally even less know of how it damages a wizards mind, soul and body. It seems to me that Voldemort didn't do the research he needed—that or he didn't have the resources to properly get all the information he could on the subject. To be quite frank, it is imprudent and unwise to dive into magic that involves the creation of a Horcrux, and if what you say is true—that he has spilt his soul into so many pieces—shows how very misguided he was. That magic...its crippling...it's all consuming."

"To explain," Cantrell continued. "Every time you split your soul, you're decreasing its attachment to you. In Voldemort's case, he has split his soul into seven pieces—there is no way he can feel any connection to them. Which explains why he had put so much precaution in where and how he hides them. I am quite certain that Voldemort doesn't know nor has he felt the destruction of three parts of his soul which makes it easier to hunt—"

"Then why go all the way to Italy?" Blaise interrupted.

"We're _assuming_ that's what he wants to use the Catalano estate for. Until it's confirmed, I want all of this information about Horcruxes out of your head." Cantrell told him sternly. Blaise looked like he wanted to argue but held his tongue and sat back into his seat. Hermione knew that argument would be continued back at the manor.

"Voldemort's greed is ultimately a weakness. But now that I have this information…it is a weakness that we can take advantage of."

"So, what do we do?" Harry asked, as a leaned forward. A look of determination on his face.

"Gather all that we know. McGonagall, I know your power at the school is limited now but try to find anything that you can. Voldemort attended Hogwarts for seven years—a Horcrux must be in there somewhere. Malfoy, ask your mother if she knows or has heard of anything that has been put under special protection from Voldemort, your father or even Bellatrix. As soon as you hear word, reach out to me and we'll meet." McGonagall and Draco both nodded. "Mr. Potter please meet me at the Manor tomorrow morning for a brief discussion."

It was the first time Cantrell offered anyone in the Order entry to the manor so Hermione threw Harry a big grin, which he returned.

And that when she saw it. She _felt_ it. It was almost unrecognizable, but it was there. In Harry. In McGonagall. In Malfoy. In herself...

Hope.


End file.
